Don't Leave Me Here
by Lainare
Summary: Juliet Caster, 27, female. Me. Can I just say that I what happened and happens to me is so confusing I'm still trying to sort it out. I mean, gosh. I almost get kidnapped, meet a hot guy, get a job doing what I love, make actual friends. Sounds pretty sweet. Confusing, but cool. But bad luck catches up sooner or later. (TobyxOC, Swearing, Torture, Inappropriate KIND OF OKAY.)
1. Pain

**This is my first submitted story or whatever, so critism... would actually be quite helpful. ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER FOR DIS STORY GUYS.**

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It was all so noisy. My head hurt like hell, the noise coming in on all sides.

A short red head bumped into me as she got pushed from behind.

She gave me an apologetic glance and scurried through the people on all sides.

Why was it so crowded? I don't know. Most people tried to give everyone some space to at least move their shoulders.

My breath began coming in faster. Someone knocked into me- I felt their hand on my hip before my knees and hands met the harsh pavement.

That was it. I needed to get out. I got up and slowly started navigating my way through the crowd, trying not to touch anyone else. I had never been a big fan of crowds, and my paranoia was creeping up on me. My breath comes in sharp inhales and my hands start to shake. I shove them into the pockets of my black and white striped jacket and pick up the pace.

My breathing's slowed down by now, as I'm in front of my door. I live in an apartment and my room was right at the edge of the hall, a flight of stairs running down at my right. I reach into my pocket to get my key, but it isn't there.

Maybe they got knocked out of my pocket when I fell over. I sure hope not, but I still felt very uncertain.

I hear loud footsteps and turn around. There's a man in a large coat and the glint of a bronze key shines out of his right hand.

It's my key.

I freeze as we make eye contact. He has black eyes and reddish brown hair curls around his face.

He doesn't look very menacing but then a crooked smile cracks across his face and he starts towards me.

I give a sharp intake of breath and turn to run down the stairs. One hand on the railing, I move as quickly as I can down them without falling over.

I hear my pursuer's shoes squeak on the stairs and hear him fall over and slam into the sharp corners. I don't dare stop to look but instead just keeping going, which is a good choice because I hear him getting up and come at me, fast but careful.

I reach the bottom of the stairs and I sprint across the hall, shoving the back door open.

The cold air beats against me and the cars aren't loud, nor plenty, but that means that if that guy gets me-

My worn sneakers thud against the rough concrete as I bolt down the alley.

I hear his laboured breath behind me and then his hand shoving into my shoulder. I tumble forward and start trying to crawl away.

His foot smashes down on my back.

I give a sharp gasp of pain and my face collides with the ground, I raise my head and my blood is on the ground below me.

While I'm frozen in shock, he bends over and pulls my top half up by putting his arms under my arms and pulling up.

_Scream,_ I tell myself. _Someone will hear and help._

I open my mouth to do that as my knees scrape against the concrete but his hand clamps over my mouth.

I shake to try and get it off but he whacks me in the side of the head with his free hand, and all the time I'm still screaming, the sound muffled by his hand.

Two of the fingers over my mouth are pressed against my teeth and gums, almost under my top lip.

My teeth clamp over his fingers like a steel-trap and don't let go. His screaming and cussing is accompanied by more whacks to my head.

Now he's thrashing, trying to remove my teeth from his fingers. I feel a sharp pain in my forearm, but my teeth are clamped hard over the thick skin covering his fingers, and his fist is bashing into the side of my head.

I taste his salty blood seeping through his now torn skin. I wonder if I bite hard enough I'll remove his fingers.

His fist finally smashes into the side of my head hard enough to make me let go and feel my own blood in my mouth. I slump to the ground and my head leans on the brick wall.

"Usually bitches like you are easier to kidnap," he says, and I hear the pain in his voice. His boot thuds down on my ankle, which is always fragile at best. I hear it crack and feel the sharp pain. "Guess I'll just take all your valuables, eh?" he gives a painful chuckle and I hear him scampering off. My eyes are closed, my vision's gone blurry. Tears run down my face.

"Help," I croak. My voice is terrible and raspy. And not loud enough.

"Help," I rasp out. It's louder, but it hurts my throat.

"Please, help," I say, louder.

"Help," The hot tears running down my face drop onto my shirt.

"Please. Help. Please." My throat hurts so bad. I wish someone would just hear me.

"Please! Help!" I attempt to yell. I double over in pain, clutching at my throat, but someone's heard. Relief briefly clouds the pain as I hear shoes scraping against the pavement.

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**That's the first chapter, guys! Did you like it? Do you liek mudkipz? Please review and I'll try to update often! :D **


	2. Help

**And my second chapter magically appears, well, enjoy!**

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"Please! Help!" I attempt to yell. I double over in pain, clutching at my throat, but someone's heard. Relief briefly clouds the pain as I hear shoes scraping against the pavement.

I turn my head to the direction of the shoes and say,

"Help. Please." I open my eyes a fraction and see a man coming towards- I'm afraid it's the same one, and I flinch, but then I realise he wouldn't come back and he was wearing different clothes.

"Are you OK?" he asks, squatting down besides me.

"I got punched in the head a lot." I say.

"And I think he broke my ankle. And my throat really hurts," I croak out.

"Should I take you to your house?" the man asks uncertainly. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, no," My raspy voice says. "He has the key to my apartment. And I don't want the hospital."

"Who is he? A really bad boyfriend?" he asks.

"No. Stranger." I think for a minute. "Kidnapper. He said the others were easier to kidnap. Help, please." My voice hurts, I just want some water and I want to go to sleep. But not here. The stranger- the nicer one- thinks for a minute then he gently places his arms underneath me and attempts to lift me up.

"What are you doing?" I ask, confusing flooding my brain.

"I'm taking you back to my house. If you don't want the hospital and your apartment is not good to return too, then I'll take you to my house. I have a spare room where you can stay. And then we can decide what to do in the morning." Finally his arms are under my in a way that doesn't cause me as much pain and he picks me up slowly.

My body jolts at every step he takes towards the road and I shudder in pain. When he reaches the street lights he digs into his pocket and digs out a phone. He holds onto my battered body as well as he cans with the one arm while he calls someone.

"Jack," he says. I hear a faint voice buzzing through the phone, and then my rescuer says, "I need you to come to…" he glances at the street sign, and then tells this Jack where to come pick him up.

I hear the voice buzz and then my rescuer says, "I'll tell you when you get here. But could you come here to pick me up?"

Then I clearly hear, "Of course, Toby. I'll be there as soon as inhumanly possible."

"Thanks Jack. See you in a bit." My rescuer hangs up.

I turn my head to him as he puts his phone back in his pocket. "Your name is … Toby?" I croak. Was that what I heard through the phone?

"Yeah, Toby Turner. My friend Jack Douglas is coming to drive me to my house. What's your name?" Toby asks, his other arm returning to support my legs better.

"Juliet Caster." I say. My throat hurts like hell. It's dry and raspy and really painful talking.

"That's a nice name." Toby says.

We're silent for a while then he says, "Does your throat hurt?"

"Yeah," My raspy voice says.

"I'll be quiet then."

I'm about to say that he can keep talking, he has a nice voice, but I close my mouth. It hurts too much to speak and a terrible headache is creeping up on me.

A car rolls up the road and stops smoothly in front of Toby and me. The man in the car, Jack, rolls down the windows and peers out.

"Toby, what happened to her?!" Jack asks, alarmed.

"Why haven't you called the ambulance?"

I shake my head urgently and it's like the headache is being thrown around my head.

"She doesn't want to go to the hospital," Toby says. "I'll explain the rest on the way," he opens the front door and gently shuffles me into the passenger seat.

Toby closes the door firmly and I fumble with the seat belt. Jack leans over and helps me with it.

He starts the car as Toby closes his door.

"So what happened?" he asks as he starts driving.

Toby started trying to explain, but I shushed him as soon as he started telling Jack about the kidnapper.

"I'll explain it," I say, and ignore the pain in my throat. "He bumped into me in a crowd and he took my key from my pocket but I didn't notice because I fell over. He followed me home and when I realised I didn't have the key he came up the elevator with my key. Then I ran down the stairs, and he followed. He fell over on the stairs but he got up almost immediately. I got outside and then he caught up to me. He knocked me over and I tried to get away, but he picked me up and put his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream or run. But I bit his fingers really hard, and he smashed my head a lot until his fingers started bleeding. Then he whacked me hard enough that I had to let go, then I collapsed, he stomped on my ankle and left saying the others were easier to get, and that he'd just go steal from my apartment." I say, my throat feeling like someone had ripped it open and twisted a flaming knife in the wound. "Then Toby came and he helped me. Then he called you. And that's it." I lapsed into silence.

"But what about your throat?" Jack asks.

"Screaming with someone's hand over your mouth hurts lots." I say.

"Ah."

We're silent for the rest of the drive to Toby's house.

My broken ankle is propped up against my knee.

Every time the car bumps my ankle throbs and my head seems to split open.

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**Did you like it? Did you like it? Hah? Well that's the second chapter... I wonder if I can wait more than a few hours to post the next one... :P Please review and yadda yadda!**


	3. Refuge

**This chapter is a little shorter than the rest, I think, so apologies in advance. But I do hope you enjoy chapter 3!**

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Every time the car bumps my ankle throbs and my head seems to split open.

"We're here." Jack says.

"Do you need help getting… uh…"

"Juliet," I say.

"Thanks. Toby, do you need help getting Juliet inside?"

"Uh, yes, thank you." Toby says, getting out of the back seat and opening my door. He reaches over to get my seat belt off.

He eases his arms under me and gently lifts me up. I give an involuntary noise of pain and Jack says, "Let me carry her, Toby." Then Toby shifts me into Jack's arms.

Toby leads the way to his front door while Jack carries me. As Toby unlocks his front door, I croak, "I want water."

Toby looks back at me and nods. He opens his door and he steps inside then waits for Jack to carry me in.

While Toby closes and locks the front door, Jack eases me onto a lounge and raises my broken ankle on a pillow. My head is propped on an armrest.

Toby flicks the light on and I blink in the harsh light.

Jack sets me up so I'm comfortable while Toby goes and gets the water.

"You're really small," Jack comments.

I nod, slow and careful, not wanting to egg the headache on.

"Is your hair naturally like that?" he asks, trying to make light conversation.

I smile and nod. My hair is platinum blonde, long and so curly it's really hard to brush.

"What about your eyes? Are those contacts?" Jack drags a chair over to be next to the lounge.

"Everyone thinks they are but they're not," I whisper. My eyes are a bright, pale purple. Of course people think they're not real. "I mean, I am wearing contacts, but they're see-through, for my vision."

"Me and Toby have contacts too. You have very pretty eyes." He says.

"Thank you."

Toby comes into the room with a glass of water.

"Here," he says. There are two ice cubes dropped in and he passes the glass to me.

The glass is cool under my hot fingers and I press the cold glass to my lips and drink.

"Did you know her hair and eyes are naturally like that?" Jack asks Toby. Toby looks surprised.

"They are?" he asks, looking at me.

"Yup, and she has contacts for her vision. Wonder why she needs glasses," Jack says while I drink the water.

I pass the glass back to Toby.

"Thank you." I say. My throat still hurts, but it's better.

Toby takes it back to the kitchen then returns.

"So I'm guessing she's staying here for a while?" Jack asks Toby.

"I guess so. That ok with you, Juliet?" Toby asks me.

I nod.

I can't go back home, because the kidnapper has the key and my spare is in my house.

And even if I could, I wouldn't feel safe. Even if I barely knew Jack and Toby, I felt safe with them here. They helped me, and they seem really nice.

Jack would probably be going home soon, I think.

"Jack do you think you could stay and help Juliet?" Toby asks.

Or maybe not.

"Sure," Jack said, sounding a bit surprised.

I looked at them both with my purple eyes.

Then I turned over with one of my legs curled up and the other straight, supported by the pillow holding my ankle.

Then I went to sleep.

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**I've already written up to chapter 10, but, y'know. Deciding to take it slllooowwwwww. Anyway, please review or whatever!**


	4. Recovering

**So here is this chapter! Enjoy!**

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I lay with my eyes closed, listening to the shuffle of feet. But I live alone. Why are there…? Oh.

I inch my eyes open to look at the back of the couch. A white blanket was thrown over me in my sleep, and I feel it in between my thumb and index fingers. It's a nice material.

I close my eyes again, and shuffle to turn over to face the rest of the room. The light is harsh to my eyes, and I can't see properly. I wish I had my video games, but my large collection of video games, stuff like Assassins Creed, Zelda, Mario and Black Ops- Even a few horror survival games- are in my apartment.

My apartment! My throat constricts as I think about my precious video games. It sounds stupid, I know. But I love them. Most people say that music is their life. Well, I do love music (I love parodies of popular songs. It's nice to see how creative some people can get), but video games are my life. I love reading, and music, but I'll pick video games over them any day of the week. Any day of the year.

My fingers, still rubbing the material in my hand, closes tightly and my nails dig through the material, which isn't very thick, and prick my palm through it.

I hope that man doesn't take or damage any. Oh please, oh please…

The shuffle of feet comes into the room.

"Juliet? You awake?" Jack whispers.

My eyes, which had been staring into the air, snap to him. I nod slowly, and I'm pretty sure my eyes look weird as they adjust to the lighting.

"Oh, good." He says, louder, in normal talking volume.

"Are you hungry or something?"

I open my mouth to say something, then close it, hesitating a bit, realising that I couldn't eat solid food with my throat strained as it was. Then I open it again.

"Can I get some water? And some soft food. Nothing too hard." I say, pushing my torso up, my arms shaking a bit. A curly lock of platinum blonde hair sweeps into my mouth, and I hook it around my finger and pull it out while Jack leaves to get me something.

I sit upright and examine my arms. They shook a lot when I lifted myself up, barely about to support my upper body weight. I roll the sleeves up and wince when I see the dark bruises. How did I get _this _beat up?

I wonder how bad my head was. This man, whoever he was, was definitely not small, nor lanky. He was quite well defined in a way that would make some women flock to him. I don't like muscle definitely showing too much in men, personally.

Jack and Toby, for an example, were fine. I knew they had muscles- how else had Toby held me in one arm when he called Jack? - And they didn't look weak. Jack looked quite strong, actually, but they didn't have muscles bulging out everywhere.

Forgetting about my broken ankle, I swing my feet over the edge of the couch and put them on the floor.

I wince loudly and try hard not to cry as the pain suddenly throbs to my brain.

I hold in my tears and decide to sit with my legs on the couch. I gingerly place my ankle back on the small pillow that had been placed there the night before.

A sudden movement caught my eye.

Toby's head pokes around the corner that leads to the kitchen.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks.

In response, I roll up my sleeves and show him the dark bruises.

"My throat is a bit better," I tell him, a little pleased that my voice doesn't sound or feel like I swallowed a bag of razors. Aches a bit and feels like sand paper, and though that isn't preferable, it's better than razors.

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**Hiiiiii reviewandfollowandfavouriteo rwhatever YAYAYAYAYA!**


	5. YouTube

**I've decided to post Chapter 5 right after Chapter 4 because in my opinion, Chapter 4 was FAR too short!**

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Toby steps into the room to get a better look and crosses the few steps it acquires to sit on the chair that Jack had placed next to me last night.

He gingerly takes my arms in his hands and looks them over.

"Ow," he says. While he examines my arms, I take a look around now that my eyes have adjusted to the lighting. His fingers are gentle on my bruised arms, a fact I am grateful for. As I look around, I see something that catches my eye.

Perched in a dark cushion is a little dog, resting.

"He's cute- is that your dog?" I ask, nodding towards the sleeping animal.

Toby takes a half turn to look.

"Yeah, that's Gryphon." At the mention of his name, he blinks and looks up at Toby, wagging hopefully.

"Hey Gryphon, c'mere." Toby says to the dog, in a cute baby voice. I'm a bit surprised, because men usually don't let women hear their baby voices.

I find myself liking Toby more.

The small dog shakes the rest of his sleepiness off, then gives a small hop and scoots over to us.

"Hi, Gryphon." I coo, and I bend over awkwardly to scratch him behind the ears.

His small tails wags, and he gives Toby a somewhat smug look. Can dogs even do that?

I settle back into position as Jack comes in with a bottle of water and a bowl of something.

His finger is hooked around the neck of the bottle, and it swings carelessly as he moves.

"Here, My Lady." Jack says grandly, placing the water, and what I now see is jelly, in my lap. A spoon is placed inside the actual jelly, though the handle is poking out. Yay jelly! Or Jell-O, whatever.

"Thanks," I say, attempting a smile. Fortunately, my face was fine. There were no bruises blotching my pale complexion, or at least I didn't feel them. I hadn't seen a mirror yet, but I gather my face was fine. The man had only touched it to cover my mouth. I briefly wonder if his blood from when I bit his fingers was on my lips still.

That thought almost sends a shudder down my spine, so I twist the lid off the plastic bottle and close my mouth around the opening and gulp down some water.

I screw the lid back on and place it down.

Unlike most, 'ladies' , I don't care about my eating habits. If it wasn't for my throat, I'd eagerly down at least two greasy chicken burgers from McDonald's. But my throat had hurt pretty bad the night before, and though it was feeling better, I didn't want to risk it.

Also, I didn't care if people thought I ate messily. I downed that stuff like I was at home playing Minecraft with a big bowl of cocoa pops. Not very neat, organised, feminine, petite or elegantly.

Jack and Toby don't seem to care, though a few men I'd met would shudder and stalk out of the room in disgust for my poor eating habits. Prissy bastards, those men were.

They waited patiently for me to finish, then Jack took the bowl and spoon back to the kitchen.

"Toby, do you have a job?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Ah, I'm not sure if you'd consider it a job." Toby says.

I ponder that, and my eyes are drawn to his shirt. In bold print, it says, 'TOBUSCUS'.

Toby sees me looking at it and laughs.

"Um, okay. I'm a famous YouTuber. My username is Tobuscus. I'm wearing some of my merchandise…" he says, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "Actually I think I only have shirts with this on them…"

"Famous YouTuber… "I say, thinking. "Like Ray William Johnson? Or Smosh? Ah, Nigahiga?" I ask, feeling a bit nervous but curious, none the less.

"Yeah," Toby says. "A bit like Pewdiepie. Like Olga Kay or iJustine. Jenna Marbles." I've never heard of these. My niece is on YouTube twenty four seven, and I only know the 'top 3 most subscribed' on YouTube.

I almost ask who the rest are, but decide against it. Since the water is beckoning me again.

Later I'm sitting with about twenty socks crammed onto my broken foot.

I had asked Toby about this, but he said it'd give better coverage and it'd be safer. A bit painful getting them on, though. Jack had helped too, though. And I learned he was also a famous YouTuber. His channel is called JacksFilms, and he does short skits and parodies and he has a popular series called 'Your Grammar Sucks', where he gets his fans to send him YouTube and Facebook comments, negative or positive, that have badly written words, terrible grammar or you just can't make sense of. Earlier, when he told me, he brung out a laptop and showed me a skit with him, Toby and another YouTuber. He also showed me another, normal one. He said the other was especially for number twenty. I asked how many he had now, and he said 49, and that number fifty was going to be half an hour long.

He also said he would maybe add me in there somewhere. The idea was nice, but he had a lot of subscribers, and the prospect of all those people seeing me scared me.

He told me it'd be fine- I didn't have to have a large part in it. Maybe just some girl saying one of the Facebook statuses to another person.

I nod and settle into the couch. I'd been sitting here all day while Jack amused me, with YouTube videos. He showed me some of his, some of Toby's.

It was very amusing seeing him rage as he fails at Happy Wheels levels.

I settle back into the couch after Jack's left, gone to see someone.

I take a swig from the water bottle, which is my third today. I'm quite content as I lean on the armrest.

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**Hi guys! I just read the reviews- Wow thanks guys! Keep reviewing and following and favouriting or whatever... Thanks!**


	6. Slender

**I love the internet, and I was on FanFiction, so here's Chapter Six. :D**

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Toby and Jack are good for company. Speaking of Toby, I wonder where he is. I take the single crutch Toby found lying around, and, with my blanket draped over me, I limp my way through the house.

The kitchen isn't very large, but I take a look down the hallway, but finding no Toby, I find myself interested in the bang I hear in a room near the living room.

I carefully twist the door handle and edge it open. Not wishing to be loud, I gently ease my crutch off and limp with both hands clutching the blanket around my slim body.

"Hey Toby." I say.

He's sitting at the computer, no, two computers. He swivels his chair around to see me.

"Where's your crutch?" he asks.

"I left it out the door. Make sure not to trip over it. What are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm setting my stuff up. For my gaming channel," he says. "I'm going to play one of the Slender games. Mansion."

"I've never beaten that one," I say. He lifts an eyebrow.

"You play Slender?" he asks.

"And lots of other games. May I join you in playing Mansion?" I ask, awkwardly standing with one of my legs raised up, wobbling on my good foot.

Toby ponders this, then nods and answers, "Of course. Anyway, since you'll be living with me, the audience will have to meet you eventually. Why not now, playing a scary, terror inducing game?"

"What a bonding experience!" I exclaim. I spy a chair and hop to it, grabbing the wooden frame and tugging it with me to place it next to Toby.

He pushes his chair a bit more to the side so the camera can get me, too, and I drag it over to the side a bit.

I sit, looking at a shelf, actually a lot of shelves, which are covered, _covered_ in videogames.

I can only imagine how many more he has downloaded on his computers. It's all quite impressive.

"Okay, it's going on now." He says, opening the game and starting his webcam thing.

"Hello once again Audience!" Toby greets his audience, and then he introduces me.

"Audience, this is Juliet, and she'll be living with me. Today we decided to see how manly she is by testing her with a game, that I myself am most manly at." His nervous cough betrayed him.

The game began and as Toby said, "What's up, statue?"

"Oh, just chilling here. You know, trying not to get hugged to death. I mean, just chilling. Juusstt chilling." I say in a different voice from my normal one, having seen Toby do just that in other videos.

"What? Death hugs? What…?" Toby mutters, starting to hunt for the mementos.

Toby and I amused each other and, hopefully the Audience, and we died at 8 mementos of the 12.

Toby gave his outro and stopped recording.

He swung his swivel chair to look at me.

"You should have a YouTube gaming channel," Toby says. "You're good at video games, pretty and funny." he says. Pretty? That was an unnecessary, but very flattering comment. Now I'm flustered, my cheeks flushing pink.

"Y-You think?" I ask. Hopefully, with the lights off, he can't see my blush.

"Yeah. I can get you started, if you want." He offers.

"Oh? S-sure." I say.

"What game do you want to start off with? Like a Let's Play?" he asks, scrutinizing my expression.

"Ah." I say. "What do you have?"

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**Hi! Hope you liked that! Sorry if it's a little short- But hey! Isn't Juliet a total bad-ass?**

**REVIEW AND FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE OR WHATEVER OKAY THANK YOU**


	7. Helping Hand

**Hey guys, after this chapter I was going to upload the next one, but damn microsoft word deleted it! FAHK! *grumpy face* Anyway enjoy and stuff...**

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Feeling very satisfied with myself, I call Toby.

"Toby!" I yell.

He's inside the room in less than a minute.

"Can you help me up?" I ask. My legs have become tangled up in my blanket as I had moved to the swivel chair.

He carefully positions his arm under my arms, and pulls me up. I stagger, and almost fall over as the blanket refuses my feet the right to move.

It hurts my ankle mildly.

As Toby lifts my body up, I bat at the blanket with my free foot, the good one.

It lets go of my socked foot and drops, in what I consider a depressed manner.

Toby keeps me supported on my short journey back to the couch.

"Thanks," I say, as he slides me onto the couch.

"No problem."

I carefully adjust my body so I could raise my foot.

I eyed Toby while I relaxed.

He had really messy, brown hair, and the blue Tobuscus hoodie he was wearing fit him quite well.

The hoodie I was wearing was making me feel quite over-heated.

I unzipped it and shrugged out of it.

I wished I hadn't, because my arms were worse than the morning.

I grimaced as I inspected my arms, which were blotched by dark bruises, purple and blue and black.

But my eyes were drawn to a dark red line, going down from my shoulder almost to my elbow.

I took my jumper and turned the sleeve inside out.

A thick, blotchy red line was there, and I shuddered.

I turned to show Toby, but he had already seen, and his brows were drawn together, his knuckles white as he strained his fingers into tight fists.

He looked a bit scary, so I drew my eyes away from his face back to my arm, looking glumly at what is probably an infected cut.

I hear Toby leaving, and then he returns shortly.

I'm not looking at him, so I'm surprised when something wet is pressed on my hot forehead.

It's cold.

"You're over-heating," Toby says, using the wet towel to push my head down, onto the arm rest.

I keep my eyes locked on him as he starts patting my arm with another wet thing.

I incline my head so I can see.

It's a simple cotton bud, but wet, and he's dabbing at the dried blood, removing as much as it as possible.

How on earth had that man cut me? I don't think he was armed…

I watch Toby's face as he dabs the dried blood off my arm.

I'm surprised I haven't noticed, but he's quite good – looking. He has sideburns, which means that he's a gentleman. In all the books I read, anyway. (A/N: LOOK AT DEM SIDEBURNS)

His eyes were carefully trained on the cut, seeming quite focused.

I closed my eyes.

The cotton bud gently swabbed at my skin, soft and wet, removing the clumps of dried blood.

"So what game are you doing again?" Toby asks, lightly.

"Amnesia." I say. "Nothing better than getting the crap scared out of you for a first video," I offer, a smile twisting the corner of my lips upwards.

"Would you mind if I edited a few parts from that into the end of the Slender video so they could go to your channel?" Toby asks. He had already offered to edit them, since I couldn't be sitting down at computers for the whole day.

"Sure," I say. "Just post my video first so they have something to watch!" I smile, my eyes opening, and Toby grins.

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**So if you're wondering what happened in what WOULD of been the next chapter, pretty much just Jack brings Olga around for some filming and she brings some stuff for Juliet. Then Juliet and Olga chat and become friends. There.**

**FOLLOW REVIEW AND WHATEVER KAY BYE (see what I did there with the kay? hahah get it get it get it Olga Kay? hahahahhah I'm a genius)**


	8. Females

**Good news! I have found the Olga Chapter- :D It was hiding from me! WOMAN BONDING YEAH!**

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I hear a car pulling into Toby's driveway, and Gryphon darts from the kitchen, his paws padding on the carpet as he barks.

"No no no, Gryphon. C'mere." I say, beckoning for Gryphon to come to me.

Gryphon seems to like me, and he hops over and starts eagerly licking my hands and wrists.

"Hey, I don't know what else you've been licking," I accuse, and Toby leaves the room for something and I hear a key turning in the lock to the front door.

It's Jack, then. Maybe he has brought someone else, because I hear the clack of heels.

Heels… Never had much patience with them.

The door opens, a swoosh of wind enters the room, and I lift my head, appreciating the cool breeze.

"Hey Juliet, where's Toby?" Jack asks, after closing the door after the female visitor.

"Holy shit!" The woman says, with what I presume is a Russian accent, and I turn to her, an insulted expression on my face. Did Jack not tell her that I was here in this state?

"Nice to meet you too," I say sourly.

"Oh, sorry, Jack told me you were a bit battered, but I didn't think this bad…"

I stay silent with an eyebrow perked up.

"Sorry, I'm Olga Kay. You must be… Juliet?" she attempts to fix her first impression.

"Yeah, Juliet Caster. I think Toby mentioned you." I say, her name softly ringing a bell.

"He did?" she asks.

"Yeah. Telling me about YouTubers." I say.

There's an expression I can't place on her face, but then she grins big and says, "I had to bring some stuff for you!"

Oh yay, woman bonding…

"… I don't… wear thongs." I say, the cloth held between two of my fingers.

"Well, I had to make sure everything was covered. I brought you some normal panties, okay?" Olga says, sitting on the couch beside me, the hefty bag of stuff she brought in between us. My legs were gently crossed, and so were hers as I examined everything she had brought.

"No jackets or anything, and mine's being washed," I said teasingly, sticking my lower lip out in a pout.

"Are you kidding? You're hotter than Taylor Lautner," Olga says, playfully.

I give a hyena like laugh, and my throat's like, 'woah gurl, hold up! I ain't done getting fixed!' and end up coughing a bit.

I end up emptying the whole bag onto the couch and going through it from that, commenting to Olga on some pieces that make me feel weird.

Achievement Unlocked- Obtain a friend!

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**I know this chapter's really short, but I needed to have Olga appear soon, because she and Toby DID used to date and Juliet needs a lady friend.**

**REVIEW AND FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE AND SHEEP, OKAY?!**


	9. Winning

**'Cause the last chapter was so short, I felt obliged to give you the next one immediately. Enjoy!**

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I slowly sit down on the bed, pushing the hair that was wet from the shower over my shoulder, testing the springy mattress.

Toby leans against the door frame, his eyes skimming over the scene. Damp little Juliet, bouncing like a little kid on the bed, which sat in the corner of a neatly made room.

"I like the mattress," I say, grinning, still bouncing.

"I can see," Toby says, his eyebrows lifting and a grin appearing on his face too.

Toby's POV

Juliet's wet pale blonde was hanging over her shoulder, leaving a damp patch on the white blouse Olga had brought, and water droplets dripping onto the black jeans. Her rosy pink lips were pulled into a grin as she bounced like a five year old on the bouncy mattress.

Then she suddenly stops and looks at me intently, her brilliant purple eyes narrowing.

"I'm sure the mattress likes you too," I assure her, as she suddenly stares at me.

She snaps out of her sudden trance and says, "Yeah. I love you, mattress." She turns her attention to the white sheets and strokes them, but her expression is still… forlorn?

"Hey Toby, mattress wants you to be the best man at our wedding!" she exclaims, turning to me, a grin back in place.

"Oh my god, it's all too much," I say, placing my slightly- okay, very- womanly voice in action.

"Okay, I'd like to thank, ah," I flutter.

"… Toby." Juliet says. "Mattress asked you to be best man. Not to be my best… bridesmaid." She says, her eyebrow quirking upwards.

"Ah, okay," I say, making my voice deeper than usual. "Yeah. Uh, yeah…"

Juliet laughs loudly, a bit like a crazed hyena. Most girls would shut up immediately and try and fix a more lady like giggle, but she really doesn't care what others think about her.

"AAHHHHH." She gasps, "Ahhhh my lungs and throat." She says, drawing in deep breaths.

For some reason, my head goes a different route and I wonder if Juliet has a boyfriend.

Probably, she's funny and really pretty.

"TOBY. TOBY. TOBY. TOBY." While I had been side-tracked, Juliet had been repeating my name, over, and over, and over…

"Ah, sorry. Yes?" I say, feeling a bit awkward.

"… Food." Juliet says, looking at me reproachfully.

Juliet's POV

He keeps staring at me…

Maybe it's because I'm eating like a hog?

I force the food down my throat and say, "Why are you staring at me?"

"Ah- I'm not staring at you. You're staring at me gurl!" Toby says, flipping one of his 'voices' into use.

"No. You were staring at me first." I state, taking another bite of the apple.

Whoa, my throat is tough shit, bro.

"No," Toby refuses.

So this starts off a playful argument, which Jack walks in on.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys. What's going on here?" he asks, shrugging off his jacket.

"He was staring at me and he denies."

"I was not staring at her and I'm just stating the truth!"

"… Wait, what?" Jack asks, looking surprised.

"I was not staring at her."

"Yes he was."

"No!"

"Yes."

Jack laughs, and says, "Toby, you've been staring at her all day."

My cheeks flush and I dive under the white sheets and start laughing loudly.

"HAH I WIN, TOBY LOSES!" I yell, my voice somewhat muffled from under the sheets. "I WIN!"

"Wha- I- no! I lost?!"

Jack also starts laughing his butt off.

"DANGIT!" Toby yells, and I hear him storm out of the room. I push the sheets back over my head and laugh even louder as I see Jack leaning over laughing.

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**Did you guys like? I had fun with Toby's POV. I hope you guys are enjoying this so far- Also beware for a few chapters in, THERE'S A CRAZY LADY RAWR.**

**Review, favourite, follow, whatever- You know the drill.**


	10. LOL

**I THINK JULIET LAUGHS LOUDLY. AND. YEAH. :3 Enjoyyyyyyyyyyy~**

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Toby's POV (again)

I peeked around the corner, as Juliet's laughing got louder and clearer. Her pale, curly hair was in a mess, totally everywhere. Her face was also a bit red from laughing.

She coughed a bit as her laughter cooled down.

She looked up to me.

"Can I have some water?" Juliet asks, her face still red, making her lips even pinker than they usually were.

I nod charitably, and exit the room and go to the kitchen.

My fingers pull the tap and I fill the cool glass with the tap water. Juliet's not very picky, unlike some people who would demand bottled water or whatever.

I go back to the room and see that Jack and Juliet have both calmed down, though Juliet's face is still pink.

I smile as I give Juliet the glass, her fingers brushing over mine.

"Thanks, Toby," she says, taking the glass and smiling.

Juliet's POV (shutthefuckup)

I take a cautious sip.

IS IT POISONED.

No. good.

Finding that the water Toby gave me was not poisoned, I drain it quickly, and after that's out of the way, and Toby and Jack have left the room, Jack too see a guy called Sean and Toby to edit, I begin preening my hair.

When it's wet, it's nice and easy to brush, but when it's dry, it's a nightmare, which is why I'm getting a headstart while the water is still desperately clinging onto every little strand.

I rake the brush through my tangled hair roughly and decide to stand up, which, of course, is possibly the stupidest idea I've had in about two years.

I hiss a cuss through my clenched teeth and lift the foot I'd forgotten was broken from the floor and roll onto the bed, tears of pain blurring my vision.

"Damn it…" I whisper, cradling my ankle carefully up to my body, in an awkward position that I had no name for.

Suddenly I had a bad thought: What if it didn't heal properly? What if it healed all wrong and I had to go to the hospital for them to re-break it and then I had to lie in a bed for 2 months while it healed _again_?

I pouted as I came to the conclusion that my mind was leading me down: I had to go to the hospital anyway.

I couldn't just keep tripping over it and hope it healed.

But my arms, my throat which still ached a bit, my legs, my grazes and bruises, the headaches that command rule over my thoughts… How would I explain it without them getting the police?

The door knob slowly twisted and Jack's head popped through the crack.

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice and eyes.

"I used my bad foot because I'm a fucking idiot," I whisper, tears still making it hard to see properly.

"Ah." Jack says.

"That and I'm going to have to go to the hospital…"

"You will?" Jack asks, a surprised look playing on his face, and he steps into the room.

"My ankle is broken, and it might heal wrong." I say, pouting, upset that my flawless plan of hiding here until I was healed was gone.

"Oh."

"Hm."

"That makes things difficult."

"Yeah."

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**THERE YA GO REVIEW AND BLOOP A DOOP**


	11. Hospital

**Hi! Sorry I haven't been updating as often- (laptop being a bich)**

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4 Days Later

I growled- literally growled- at the bitch doctor and she frowned deeply.

"Does she have any type of mental disorder?" she asked, turning to Toby.

It sounded like something a doctor would say, but I bet she was just jealous that I could growl better than her.

"No." Toby says, "I don't think so."

The doctor bites her lip and looks away, to hide her disappointment.

"What is your relationship with Juliet?" she asks, her professional mask back in place.

"She lives with me," Toby says. The doctor seems triumphant, but I don't get why.

Oh wait.

THAT WHORE!

Another growl rips through my teeth and I can see her arm tense, as if to stop it from lashing out at me.

Why am I growling? I hate her. Why couldn't we get a nice doctor, with all her buttons done up and her boobs not practically bulging out the top?  
Of course not.

I cross my legs in the white, pristine hospital bed, and I refused to look at anyone. Instead I examined my surrounding. The white walls reflected off the polished white, blue and green flecked floor, and the lights seemed too bright to look at without going blind. All around me I hear the scrape of shoes sliding on the floor, the whirring sound that the wheels of various things make, and I can even hear a baby howling.

I wish that the nurse would close the blue curtains that run around the small area.

It was like I was a display, situated for all to see.

I hated it.

I tuned out Toby and the Doctor's discussions, and instead I stared down at myself and reflected.

The dark blotches on my skin seemed horribly offensive to me. It looked like someone had spilled ink over my legs and arms. There were scabs on my knees where I'd fallen over that night.

I shudder involuntarily as I remember the strong grip of his hands over my arms, pulling me backwards.

I look at Toby, though I still refuse to hear the words that are being passed to the doctor.

He's the one who saved me. If he hadn't been there, what would've happened?

Would the kidnapper come back and take me?

Would I lay there and die? That seems a bit extreme, but whatever.

Maybe I simply would of lain there, unconscious, until the women who smoked out there came out in the morning.

But after that, they'd tow me here, then I'd be back in my violated, un-safe apartment.

Where he'd be able to get me properly, easily. Healed, I'm sure I'd be of more use to him.

No-one even knows what he does to his victims. He could rape them, kill them, and maybe hold them hostage. Maybe he liked inflicting pain.

Maybe he held them hostage, raped them and then killed them. Or maybe he killed them _then _raped them.

I could be dead right now, if it wasn't for Toby. I wouldn't be on the Earth, not my soul anyway.

Maybe he ate his victims or maybe, and this is absurd, but maybe he's like a crazy scientist.

Maybe he experiments on those women.

Right now, I could be dead, getting drugs tested on me, raped, or tortured.

I didn't realise that I was crying until I felt Toby's arm wrapping around me and heard him asking what's wrong.

Instead of answering, I just keep crying into his chest.

This sucks.

I see the doctor purse her lips and cross her arms. Her face set with a stony expression, but I ignore her.

Toby's really warm.

Maybe he's running a fever?

No… I'm just really cold. I have little body fat and I didn't have a jumper to bring, unlike Toby, and the Hospital had a deathly chill hanging over it.

As if sensing this, Toby shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over me, and my fingers clutch the green fabric over my shoulders.

"What's wrong?" he murmurs, softly.

My face is buried in his chest and I can feel his chin resting on the top of my head.

"I think I just realised what happened that night," I whispered. My voice sounded crackly. I hoped I hadn't injured my throat more. "No-one knows what he does to his victims. I was supposed to be one of the victims."

Toby's arms tighten around me, and I shudder against him, though I feel safe in his arms.

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***Note- No, Juliet is not depressed, she simply just realised what could've happened to her. I thought this was a good bonding moment, no?* **


	12. Mandy-Renee

**Hey.**

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I honestly want to bite her face off. Or maybe I'll be nicer and make her You-Know-Who by biting her nose off. The thought makes me smile and she glares at my grin. Maybe I should send Jack, who's on the edge of sleep, his head leaning against the bed while he sits- slumps would be better- on the uncomfortable, beige chair. The doctor, whose name turns out to be a very nice Mandy-Renee Scott, scowls at me then turns on her heel and stalks out the door.

As I sit upright on the tight, stretched white sheet, I hear her gasp of surprise and she walks straight into Toby, and the squeal her tall heels make as she slips backwards.

"Sorry," Toby says, though I still can't see him or her, I'm sure he's helping her up.

"Oh, no, it's my fault, I apologise," she simpers, and I feel like hopping out there and whacking her over the head with the heavy-looking cast that she's getting another doctor to put on me.

"Oh no, it's-" Toby's voice suddenly cuts off, and I wonder if he just saw our pal Slendy down the corridor. I break a smile imagining how Mandy-Renee would react to the tall being watching her awful attempts at flirting. Shrieking and flailing, tripping over her tall Ed-Hardy's in her struggle to escape (Just saying, where the fuck can I get me some Ed Hardies?)

I look at Jack, whose eyes have snapped open, as something breaks in the corridor.

"What was that?" I ask, my voice sounding strained to my ears. I twist my body, which is wrapped tightly in the thin hospital blankets, as Jack gets up.

"Probably Toby fending off some dragon," Jack says, as though it's obvious. His fingers are brushing against the door knob when there's another gasp, though this one sounds like it's for air, and I hear Toby asking, "What are you doing?!"

Jack shoves the door open and I try shuffling forward to see what's happening as he steps out into the corridor and cries out, "What the fuck?!"

"Jack? What's going on?" I ask, and I receive no response as Jack leaves my frame of vision, going behind the wall.

"Hey!" I shout, my voice sounding distressed and I clutch at my throat as the feeling of it being ripped becomes a sudden concern.

The door, which is hanging open, as if waiting for someone to come back through, starts slowly closing, but not before I see Mandy-Renee stumble backwards with a completely pissed, and insulted expression on her face. She takes some steps forward, looking like a lion hunting down a deer, her hand reaching into her back pocket, and then the door slams shut again, and the noise sounds more muffled.

I go to shout again, but I double over coughing painfully.

Where's the button for the nurse or whatever? I think frantically. It feels like I'm choking…

My vision blurs but I feel my fingers feebly press down on the button.

Am I choking?

It feels like I'm choking.

I think I'm choking.

I'm choking.

I hear the sharp tap of shoes through the din outside the door and then a strangled, "oh!"

What's going on? Is that the nurse I called for? Why isn't she coming in? I'm choking! What's going on out there?! Unless someone tried to rape someone-else, why the…?

"Break it out! Stop it or I'll call security!" a sharp voice imperiously barks out, though I'm hardly listening, and apparently no-one else is, because the noise seems to be rising…

Is there a tiny midget in my throat with a flaming pickaxe, hacking through the flesh there? It feels like it, and the noise is making the ones in my head start thumping away.

I cry out as the pain becomes so unbearable, it's the only thing that I can think of.

Hot tears spill over my cheeks and leave dark blotches on the white, pristine blanket, as I clutch uselessly at my throat, trying to slow down my ragged breathing, which isn't working at all.

The noise out the door continues to rage on, though I can barely notice it.

Maybe I'm having a seizure. I wouldn't know.

Why won't the nurse come inside and save me? Isn't that nurses jobs? To stop people from choking and coughing to death, and to stop their heads from splitting open?

My eyes are squeezed shut as the tears of pain roll down my face, so I can only hear the door slamming open.

Another shocked gasp, and another barking command, and then Toby's voice cutting through the sounds outside.

"Juliet?" Then I think I lost consciousness, my last memory of two pairs of hands on my arms, pulling me up.

Toby's POV

This is bizarre. The doctor, who seemed maybe a bit.

short-tempered, didn't seem like she belonged in a crazy asylum.

But as the flame flickers over her sharp nails, I think that she should go to one.

All of this because I rejected a kiss?

It's not that she isn't pretty, but I just don't…

And Juliet…

I remember Mandy-Renee bumping into me as she huffs out of Juliet's room, and slipping over. Her heels, which didn't look like a very reasonable size to be going around in a hospital in, were probably why.

Then, when I helped her up and apologized, her lips were on mine, her right arm suddenly locked around my neck, and one hand trying something else which I did not approve of.

I remember trying to detach her, and tripping into something, jarring my shoulder painfully into a heavy shelf. Dark, slippery liquid flowing over the white floor, shiny fragments of glass drifting among it. Then Mandy-Renee let go, and I gasped for air as her lips released their hold, and I managed to gasp out, "What are you doing?!" as her hands tugged on my shirt, trying to pull me down to her, .

Then Jack stepped into the corridor, and as he took in Mandy-Renee, well, sexually assaulting me, he yelled, "What the fuck?!"

He moved forward to help me, and I heard Juliet's distressed voice calling out, "Jack? What's going on?", and she was the one concern on my mind, before Jack slipped over the liquid, which I guessed was a type of oil. Then he got up and pulled Mandy-Renee off me, and she stumbled backwards. A lot of yelling started happening, and Mandy-Renee regained her balance, and took a lighter out of her pocket as she moved forward, hissing foul words and threats.

I remember moving forward and closing my hand over hers, trying to prise the lighter out of her grasp, when I guess she tried to kiss me again, and I moved backwards, and then a doctor, an aging woman, her low heels making loud noises on the polished floor, coming towards us, gasping out, "Oh!"

And then she barked out, "Break it out! Stop it or I'll call security," and then Mandy-Renee fumbling with the lighter, and the bright flame flickered over her sharp, polished nails. Back to right now.

The noise continues, and it seems to be amplified at the doctor's appearance, and Mandy-Renee bends over to the oil, her dark eyes seeming to shine with some sort of victorious gleam. Two men bustle down the corridor behind her, but she doesn't notice them, instead seeming to enjoy the effect of putting the flickering fire near the very flammable liquid.

Then two pairs of hands clam down over her forearms and yank her up, and she gives a sharp cry as the lighter slips from her fingertips, but the flame is gone by the time that it sinks into the thin oil.

The doctor gives the spilt oil a wide berth and bustles to Juliet's door.

"Oh!" she gasps, shocked. I slide over the oil.

"Juliet?" I call, surprised.

While Mandy-Renee was being a physco, Juliet was doubled over, her fingers clutching at her pale throat.

Was she choking?

Then, as I watch, her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses on the bed.

"Juliet!" I shout, and I cross the room, and pull her back up with the nurse.

"Shit!" Jack shouts, having stepped into the doorway.

"What's wrong with Juliet?!"

"She's just choking," the doctor snaps, "calm down!"

She looks at me and snarls, "get out!"

I move out of the room, and stand outside the door with Jack.

"Do you think she's ok?" he asks after a few minutes. My throat is so dry, I'm not sure I can answer but I say, "She's Juliet. Of course she's ok."

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**Don't mind me, just listening to Taylor Swift Parodies. (BARTBAKER). Hey- Maybe that's where I got the idea for Mandy-Renee! FOLLOW FAVOURITE REVIEW WHATEVER YOU FEEL LIKE.**


	13. Sexist

**This chaper's going to be longer. AND REVIEWS, guys! I love hearing your feedback! So gives it to me! :D**

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"Jesus, I'm fine, guys," I snap, yanking the sheets up to my chin. I'm back to sitting on the thin hospital bed, and the clunky cast, which is just as heavy as it looks, is covering my foot.

"And what happened to Mandy-Renee? I heard that she got taken by the cops?" I questioned.

Toby and Jack exchange an un-decisive look and then Jack says, "She got taken away because of sexual assault."

What?

"What, did someone rape her?" I ask, and though I try to keep it away from my tone and expression, I think she deserves to get raped, and I think Jack and Toby can tell that I'd be happy to hear that.

"Ah, that's not quite it-" Toby begins, but then Jack interrupts with, "No, _she _was the assaulter."

"What?" I ask, confused. She seemed like a whore, but you don't expect a doctor to try and rape one of the patients.

"So who got preyed on?" I ask. Toby was the only one in the corridor with her, wasn't he?

Just as I think that, I snap my head to face Toby and I stare at him.

"Did she _rape _you or something?" I ask him, ignoring Jack saying, "no, but she was about to," and Toby grimaced and said, "She didn't _rape _me; she just forced herself on me."

"Oh right, just leave out the part where she tried unzipping your pants," Jack says dryly, and I whack Toby over the head with my fist.

"And you neglected to tell me that my doctor almost raped you?!" I ask, and my voice sounds strained again. Not wanting to almost choke to death, I lower my voice.

"It was more her lips all over him, but yeah, she tried that too," Jack adds.

I spare him a withering look and turn back to Toby. "Are you serious?"

He nods, and says, "God, I didn't like it, stop looking at me like I was the one attacking _her_,"

"I'm not!" I say, feeling insulted. How is being stressed that a friend almost got raped by my doctor making me look like I blamed him?

And Mandy-Renee kissing him, what the fuck?

Honestly, I think that I'm mostly pissed about that. By why? I'm not _dating_ Toby, so why do I feel like clawing her face off for kissing him?

Not just clawing her face off, but perhaps setting her on fire and having a creepy clown licking her face.

Normally I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, but…

I grimace as I hear a distant shriek.

Mandy-Renee, still fighting the security or whatever, has been numbly waiting inside a staff room for an hour, and I'm guessing the police are here now, dragging the crazy bitch away.

Jack mumbles something about getting a coffee, and shuffles out of the room, his sneakers squeaking over the floor.

"So…" Toby says, awkwardly, as the door slams shut after Jack. "What's your favourite movie?"

I stare at him in shock. Is he serious? Then I give a weak smile and say, "Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland."

Toby half smiles, and he turns to the door when we hear noisy people coming down the hall.

Seriously, my pain killers only just kicked in, if they give me another head-ache…

A polite knock at the door announces the presence of visitors. Maybe the police, Mandy- Renee did attack Toby… the thought make me a bit pissed off again.

The door cracks open and a man with a bushy moustache steps in.

"Hello," he says. Too formally. "I'm officer Hoskins, here to speak to Toby Turner?"

"That would be me," Toby says, not leaving the chair beside my bed, where I perched.

"Would you care to step outside for a minute?"

Toby looks at me uncertainly, and at my stricken expression he turns back to Hoskins.

"Would we be able to speak in here?" he asks smoothly. Hoskins's moustache bristles as if Toby just called him a very bad word.

"Of course." He says, stiffly.

"Have a seat," I offer, gesturing to the chair that Jack had previously resided in.

Its rubber soles squeak as the officer pulls the chair further from the bed and closer to Toby.

He seems determined to pretend I'm not there as he questions Toby.

"So when did Mrs. Scott assau-"

"_Mrs?" _I cut in, shocked.

Hoskins unwillingly draws his gaze to my open face.

"Yes. Her husband did not respond well when he came, and he is being held in custody for a while."

"Oh." I say. She's married? But still she mouth-raped Toby? I… I…

"Yes. Anyway, Mr Turner, when and where was the assault situated and could you fill us in on the details?" Hoskins says, turning back to Toby.

"Ah, yes. It was about an hour and a half ago." Toby says, twiddling his thumbs. "It was just outside the door, actually. She wa-"

Hoskins cut in, and Toby shot him an annoyed look. "By she you mean Mrs. Mandy-Renee Scott?"

"Well obviously, who else do you think it'd be?" Toby asks, and he seems a bit irritated.

"Ah- your female companion here."

"Do I _look_ like I can walk?" I snapped, spreading my legs out on the white bed sheets.

The dark bruises covering my legs were hard to ignore against my pale skin, and Hoskins' gaze didn't linger.

"Well. Continue."

"She came out of this room when I was about to enter and she bumped into me and I guess one of her heels broke? She fell over and I helped her up. Then she kissed me and while I tried to get her off I bumped into the shelf and this oil stuff spilled over the floor. And my friend Jack- he's getting coffee right now- came out to see what was happening, because he was here with Juliet with me, well, he came out and he got Mrs. Scott off me, and he kind of tossed her across the floor a bit- I blame the oil, but then she pulled a lighter out of her pocket,"- So that was what I saw before the door swung shut, Mandy-Renee taking out her lighter. Is she a pyromaniac or something? I mean, I like fire, too, but I don't get setting guys aflame.

"I guess the oil is flammable, and she was about to set it, when a nurse came- I'm guessing Juliet sent for her, but not because of the noise- she was choking- but the nurse called security and Mandy-Renee got taken away, then the nurse tended to Juliet." He finished abruptly, and then waits with his hands in his lap for Hoskins' reaction or whatever.

"Ah, yes… Juliet." He says, shuffling around to look at me.

His brown eyes seem to examine every bruise, every scratch, every little injury.

"The doctors inform me that she refuses to tell how she acquired these injuries?" He says softly, his gaze turning to Toby.

"Yes. She… doesn't want to talk about it. Jack and I have only heard how she got them once, and she has no wish to repeat the story."

"Then could you tell me?" Hoskins asks, and to my relief Toby immediately responds with, "No. She doesn't want anyone else to know."

I mouth 'thank you' at him, and he smiles. Hoskins looks back at me.

"You're taking orders from a _woman_?" he asks incredulously.

Me and Toby simultaneously gape at him, and I start looking for something to smash over his sexist head.

"What does her being a woman have to do with anything? All genders are equal." Toby says, frowning.

I'm about to settle for the stand for the solitary IV in the room, I don't need it anyway, it's just standing there, when Jack comes back in the room, when Jack enters with 3 coffees. Without even pausing to look at Hoskins, he crosses the room, gives a cup to Toby then sits on the bed with me and passes me the other one.

"How much sugar's in this?" I enquire, pulling my sleeves over my fingers as the liquid inside scalds my fingers through the cup.

"4 table spoons, you seem like the sugary type." Jack says, settling comfortably into the bed and taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Thanks, I am." I nod my head at him and raise the cup to my lips.

Hoskins look bewildered as he took in our casual exchange and then Jack turned to look at Hoskins and said, "Hey. You here to question Toby? Did he leave out the part where she tried unzipping his pants again?" I force the coffee in my mouth down my throat in an attempt not to spray it over the room as I hide my laughter. My shoulders are shaking, and my cheeks are heating up though, so I don't think I fooled anyone.

"Yes, he did." Hoskins says. "Are you Jack Douglass?"

"Yup, or you can just call me Hipster Jesus. Auto-tune Jesus also suffices." Jack states, ignoring the look from Hoskins' that says, 'Are you insane? Should we take you to a crazy asylum?'

"Would you mind telling me what happened to Juliet Caster?"

"No, she doesn't want us to." Jack says, crossing his ankles over each other on the bed, his legs hanging inbetween the chair and bed.

"Crazy men… taking orders from a woman…" Hoskins mutters, though all of us can hear him clearly. Jack looks like he's about to lean over, snap his neck, all Assassins Creed like.

"Get out of my room," I snap. Better verbal abuse then I pounce on him with the IV stand and club him over the head until he looses conscious, or Jack and Toby go Assassins Creed on him.

"What?" He asks, sounding shocked.

"You're stressing a patient, and you need to leave the patient's room. Out."

He looks outraged and bewildered and says, "Why?"

"You're stressing me out, insulting my gender, and now you need to take orders from a woman and leave my room, or I'll call a nurse or security. Leave now, please."

Hoskins stands up, his moustache bristling, and he stoutly leaves the room, looking like I'd just stabbed his dignity in the face with a screwdriver.

"Finally, he was annoying." Toby sighs in relief as the door closes.

"Good job, Julie!" Jack says, leaning up out of his chair and slapping a highfive. Julie? I think that was my nickname in Primary School. I smile.

* * *

**Little Juliet has a nickname! Yay! :D FOLLOW REVIEW AND FAVOURITE WEEEEEE!**


	14. Coffee Muffins

**Chapters are probably going to start getting longer. That's good, right? Okay, now you read this!**

* * *

"Could you two leave for a moment?" the doctor asks, turning her steel sharp gaze on Toby and Jack, who immediately nod and step out, gently closing the door behind them.

"Okay, Juliet, do you have any cuts? When you got… injured… did you bleed anywhere?" she asked, using a type of knife to get my cast off. I hear a loud laughter outside and I presume that Jack made a period joke.  
Real classy, Jack…

"Um, I… fell over when these happened. My chin smashed onto the ground and I could taste a little blood in my mouth, and also I didn't feel it happening, but there's also a cut on my arm. It stings a little. Apart from my scrapes, that's about it." I say, and worry makes me glance out the small window at the door.

The only thing visible is the back of Toby's head, and I wonder if he's still listening to me, or listening to Jack's period jokes.

"Ah-ha." The woman, my doctor says. Unlike Mandy-Renee, this woman, though not old, has small wrinkles in between her brows and on the edges of her dark red-coloured lips. I'm guessing she's in her mid-forties.

Her brown hair is curly, not as curly as mine, but curly, and held away from her face with a black head band that has a simple red heart sewed into it. She has large, grey eyes and seems to have taken the older woman from earlier as a role model, answering everything simple, asking no questions out of curiosity, well, not about injuries anyway. And making sure nothing distracts her from her work; she is very hard-working.

She gently takes my freed foot in her hands and looks around it. The ankle's a bit swollen but it's not that bad.

I shift uncomfortably and lean back on my elbows, and the doctor asks, "So, are those men close friends of yours?"

"Yeah. They're actually my only friends."

"Oh. Don't get out much?"

"No. I'm not very talented at social interaction."

"But you're so pretty. Surely you must have people stopping you every five seconds!"

"Not really. I don't like crowds, so I usually wear my glasses, and they're not very attractive. But I broke them a while back, so I use contact lenses now, but people are kind of weirded out by my eye colour."

"Oh, they're natural, are they?"

"Yeah. And so's my hair. People are always asking where I got my hair done, and then I just tell them in my bathroom, then there's an awkward silence then I just walk away."

My doctor laughs, and she turns my foot over, to look at the other side.

"But only two friends?" she questions, running her finger over a bruise blossoming over my ankle.

"Yeah. I don't get along that well with other girls because I'm not that girly," I say, thinking it's probably sad that I don't have many friends. I don't feel sad, though. "I get along better with guys. Might have something to do with the fact that my apartment's filled with video games."

"I like video games, though I rarely have the time to play them."

"I don't think I could live without them. Luckily, Toby lets me play them."

"Hm?"

"Oh, I live with him. He's the tall one in the green shirt. I… lost the key to my apartment and I always keep the spare inside." I give a laugh, though it sounds a bit hollow.

"Oh. So when did you meet them?"

"Not that long ago, really. Oh, I have another friend. Her name's Olga. She's a lot more girly than me, but she likes video games too. She's pretty."

"Doubt she's as pretty as you."

"Maybe, maybe not, but at least she's good at communication."

"You seem to be doing fine, talking with me, and your foot's looking better. I'll come back in the evening and you may be able to return to… Toby's… tomorrow."

She lays my foot down, writes a few things on her clipboard, and pulls the door back, laughing loudly when Toby, who was leaning against the door, trips backwards. He regains his balance in time, but it's still one of the funniest things I've seen in a while.

Jack comes in laughing like me and the doctor, and Toby does too.

Most people would hang their head in embarrassment, but Toby doesn't care. HE GIVES ZERO CHAPSTICKS.

LATER THAT EVENING

"All hail Jack, the master of coffee," I say, grinning, pretending to worship him as he comes back with more coffee.

This is probably our 8th coffee today, but we're still downing 'em.

Outside, the silver moon is hanging in the navy sky, and Jack and Toby have, once again, insisted on saying the night with me. I had wondered aloud at how uncomfortable sleeping in those chairs must be, but Toby and Jack just smiled at each other.

Jack slumps down in his chair, and I offer him one of the cute muffins that have arrived via the nurse with the snacks.

He takes it, then ponders it for a second. Me and Toby exchange a confused glance.

Then Jack dunks it in his coffee and takes a bite.

"Hh! Jack! Does that taste good?!" I squawk, placing my cup down on the moving table thing.

"Yes." Jack says, staring at the cup and muffin in wonderment. "Try it." He urges, sitting more upright and nudging Toby and me.

I laugh, "Aha, okay, okay!" and dunk my muffin into my coffee, and it splashes back up me like, screw you, beotch!

I pat senselessly at my cheek, where the coffee is burning my skin, missing everytime, and then Toby, who was yet to coffee-fy his muffin, reaches over, moves my hand out the way, swipes the scalding drink of off my cheek, and leans back in his chair.

"Uh- okay then." Jack says, and he coughs- splutters, more like it- into his drink; "Toby has the hots for Julie". I pretend not to hear, though I'm sure my cheeks are blazing.

I pop my muffin into my mouth and pretend that Toby and Jack aren't there.

THIS MUFFIN IS MADE FROM THE GODS, CRAFTED BY THE HAND OF … A GOD. Pfft, I don't know!

I pluck up a muffin, which feels soft and spongey, and drop it into Toby's, where it DOES NOT splash.

Well played, coffee. Well played.

Toby looks surprised at me, and I nod at the coffee.

"Go on. Take out the muffin."

"I'll burn my fingers."

"It's cold in here, anyway." I say, and nod again at the simple cup. "Before it falls to pieces, Toby!" I say, and clap my hands together fast to make him hasten, like a little kid encouraging their mother to take a cake out of the oven.

"Ok!" Toby laughs, and he fishes around for the muffin.

"Got it!" He cries triumphantly, his hand emerging out of his coffee, the dainty muffin held daintily between two of his fingers, and he tosses it into his mouth.

He nods in approval of the coffee soaked muffin.

"Yes, Toby, accept the god! THE GOD OF MUFFINS DIPPED IN COFFEE!" Jack cries, raising his arms dramatically. The doctor that was leaning in our doorway, jumps back and hastens his journey to another patient, probably wondering why Jack wasn't signed into some crazy place somewhere. That'd be the second person today.

For the rest of the evening, I sit on the steel straight bed, with its scratchy white sheets pulled tight across it, the simple, but decent, pillow sitting forlornly under the shelf, which is covered with sharp glass bottles, filled with medicines, packs of pills, drugs, a few syringes, and those weird vomit bags. Those vomit bags are CREEPY. They remind me of metroids for some reason, you know, those creepy brain things that rape Samus's head? I don't know why, but they do.

Next to the bed is the un-used IV, which stands rather menacingly alone, making this already strange looking place even more frightening. There's a low shelf under the window, which has blue curtains held strictly straight and stiff- the windows are clasped shut- and on the shelf there's a few cleaning stuff, bandages, cottons swabs, some liquid that looks like cleaning detergent held in a plastic bottle.

On the other side of the bed, are the stiff, uncomfortable looking chairs in which the two man friends of mine perch. They seem comfortable enough, but it's probably because they've been sitting on them quite often. The seat has probably moulded to their butt-shapes.

The door that leads to the corridor is situated near the corner of the wall, and so is the bathroom, which I used last night, on a nurse's insistence.

I don't want to repeat the scene, as the nurse had ushered me around everywhere like I was hard of hearing, and possibly had a broken hip.

Then she helped me undress- I can get nude fine, thanks, and she forced this plastic bag thing over my broken foot, even though I said that the doctor who had seen me in the morning told me that if it was feeling bad I could remove it, and then she waited out the door, telling off Toby and Jack for multiple things- their posture, how they shouldn't be allowed to sleep in the same room as an 'innocent young lady', the coffee cups littering the room, even my messy bag of clothes, of which some had scattered over the place when I had dove into it when the nurse had arrived, she even blamed them for my tired look and messy hair! When I was finished, which was only made noticeable by the hiss of the shower stopping, she told them off one more time before hurrying into the bathroom- I was honestly annoyed at this point- miss nurse, I can take a plastic bag off of me fine, I can get dressed easy, I don't need you to half carry me to my bed- and when I had got into the bed, with this ugly scowl on my face, she continued to fuss over me. Trying to pat down my unruly hair, patting any wetness of off my face and neck- Jack and Toby offered to help, probably sensing my desperation to get her to stop touching me, but she snarled at them and left like 10 minutes later.

She was easily more annoying than Mandy-Renee.

* * *

**Yeah, my chapters will be getting a lot longer now. Also, there's a chapter coming up, and the name of the chapter will be really long (Like, word word word, word word!) :D Not to be confused with another chapter called One Million that will be uploaded soon.**


	15. One Million

**Warning: Lots of explicit language in this chapter. FOR FUN, OF COURSE! :D**

* * *

I moan, my face in the pillow, as Jack tugs the blankets off, telling me to get my 'ass out of that damn bed so we can get you into Toby's fucking car', as he put it.

"Stop fucking swearing, you fucking asshole, no-one wants to hear your bitchy whining, Jack!" I groan, as his fingers close over my wrist and he starts tugging me out of the bed. My free hand grips tightly onto the edge of the bed. Toby laughs at my rude demand for Jack to stop being rude.

Eventually Toby prises my fingers off the other side of the bed and Jack drags me off the bed.

"I wanna sleep, fuck off, Ja-" I protest, but it's cut off by Jack, who stuffs a muffin my my open mouth.

I grumble the whole way to Toby's car, and they put me in the back, and Toby gets in the back with me, since we're going to McDonalds or somewhere and Jack wants to put our shit in the front passenger seat.

Though I complained so much about getting dragged away from the realm of dreams and relaxation, I'm bouncing up and down in the seat in anticipation of unhealthy, delicious FAST FOOD.

"Hey, Julie," Toby says, turning to face me.

"Yeah, Tob?" I grin. He can have a nickname, too.

Toby grins. "Do you know how many subscribers you have now?"

"No freakin' idea." I say, turning to him. "How many?"

"About 1 and a half million?" Toby offers.

"WHAT THE F-"

"SHE HAS MORE THAN ME?"

"Jesus, calm down," Toby laughs. "You'd better start making some more videos when we get back, Juliet!"

I have 1 million and a half subscribers? ONE. FUCKING. MILLION. AND. A. HALF. HOLY SHIT.

They practically don't even know anything about me! Even so, as I stare out the window, seeing pedestrians and trees and other cars whiz past, I can't help feeling a mounting excitement. Does this mean that YouTube can be my career, like Jack and Toby?

"Sheeeeit." I say, drawing out the simple curse as I look at my YouTube page.

"Fuck! You do have more than me!" Jack exclaims over my shoulder.

I go through my inbox, which has about a thousand messages, and sort through each single one. Apart from the spam ones. I hate those.

Then I go through the comments on my 10 videos, there are so many positive ones!

'you're so funny and pretty!'

'will you go out with me? I mean, yolo, rite?' (I replied to that one with a: I don't think you could handle this.)

'Holy crap- ' I know a great dentist, man, I think you should check him ou- OKOK, I WON'T TALK ABOUT YOUR TEETH AGAIN, PLEASE SPARE ME!' I choked on my oreo after that. YOU ARE SO FUNNY IT'S LITERALLY KILLING US.' (My reply: Try eating a really hot meat pie- It burned the SHIET out of my tongue and throat!)

'You, madam, have earned another subscriber!' (How delectable. Thank you, kind sir. Would you enjoy another cup of my special Irish tea?)

The answer to my offer of Irish tea came almost immediately: 'No thank you, kind madam, I'm on a diet. I've been eating too many bananas as of late. (How unfortunate. Next time, then, my good sir.)

A few trolls had taken a place in my comments as well, like:

'GET IN THE KITCHEN AND MAKE ME A SANDWICH!' (You're a man- grow a pair of balls and make one yourself.)

Also, 'Who taught this whore how to play this game?', and a surprising amount of my subscribers responded with vehemence and vengeance: and Jack (god bless his awful, awful soul), commented with: I duno myb Toby did she his hor I dink. (Translation: I don't know, maybe Toby did, she's his whore, I think.) (Me: I AM NO-ONE'S WHORE, I AM MY OWN WHORE. And also, after watching YGS I thought you'd have more respect for my brain, Jack. I think I got brain herpes after reading that.)

Some of the comments made me feel strange: 'Are you Toby's new girlfriend?' (someone responded with: 'Probably, she lives with him, and she's really pretty and funny.')

'omg I didn no Toby had a gf!' (Someone had corrected her spelling, and then said, 'No-one said they are dating. They are probably just friends. Did you see any romantic gestures when they played Slender? NO.')

I answered lots of questions and replied to lots of answers, and my fingers hurt with a kind of numb feeling, but I was happy.

People _liked _me. More than a little handful. A million and a half people _liked _me!

I wasn't sure how Toby's webcam worked, but I managed to figure it out, and I yelled at Jack and Toby to 'shut up or I will MESS YOU UP'.

"How you going to do that, cripple?" Jack called out tauntingly.

"I'll throw a crutch at you! NOW SHADDUP."

Jack and Toby's twitters fades away as they go outside.

Okay!

"Hi, I'm Juliet Caster, and HOW THE HELL DID I GET A MILLION AND A HALF SUBSCRIBERS?! This is insane. But, you know what? I don't give a fridge! Thank you, strangers, and I hope we will be able to become a crazy family of murderers. OH- I meant crazy family of m… mu…. Monkeys. Yeah. Monkeys." I give a shot nod and turn the webcam off. That could've gone better, but all well.

I turn around in my- well, it's actually Toby's, but I DO NOT GIVE A FRIDGE- swivel chair, and I fall theatrically to the ground, where my crutches are waiting.

I struggle with them for a few moments, and then they allow me to get up and hobble into the lounge room.

"Done." I state, wobbling over to the couch.

"Took you long enough!" Jack exclaims.

Toby is quiet, which is uncharacteristic for him.

I snap my fingers in front of his face.

He jumps with a start and squeaks, "I have abs!"

Jack rolls his eyes.

I shake my head mournfully for my friend's lost sanity.

"We'll find your mind one day, Toby."

"You'll help me find it?" he asks, turning wide, puppy-dog eyes to me.

"Of course," I say, consolingly.

He smiles gratefully and settles back down.

"Hey…" Toby looks back up at me.

"Do you really have abs?" I ask. Toby grins and nods.

"I'd show you, but I don't want to take you to the hospital again. Y'know, because of your exploded ovaries." He says.

"Oh, ha ha ha." I laugh dryly, then I turn and hobble into the kitchen.

"Making me a sandwich?" Jack calls out.

"MAKE YOUR OWN BITCH!" I yell back, and instead I find something to calm my own hunger.

* * *

**TOBY HAS ABS :D**

**SOMETHING I LEARNED FROM YGS 50!**

**Dayum Toby.**

**REVIEW FOLLOW AND FAVS MAYBE I AIN'T YO MOMMA**


	16. Emotions? I has none! (I

**Something tells me you'll like a bit of this chapter :P**

* * *

Jack's gone out with I guess his girlfriend? He called her 'Ayla', and she sounds nice, so I'm happy for Jack, so I'm sitting down at the sofa, alone in the house, apart from Toby, who's in the Gaming Den.

I can hear Toby yelling at Happy Wheels in the other room, and I'm kind of lost on what I can do.

I could gorge myself, but if I did that every time I got bored, we'd have nothing to eat.

Also I'd be a walrus.

Walruses are cool, but I don't want Toby to starve.

Also, if I turned into a walrus I might eat him, and I figure that'd be bad. Possibly. Actually, yeah, it'd be bad.

Jack left his laptop here, and I have long since figured out his password (catlvr6969? Not very bright of you, Jack. That was too easy).

I flip the laptop open and decide to surf the interwebz for the time being, and I swim through many statuses, lolcats, YOLO posts, gifs, and YouTube comments.

"What?" I ask softly.

"We think we've found something… not natural in your arm. You'll have to return to the Hospital to have an ultra-sound on your arm. Where you were cut." I almost drop the phone, but my fingers maintain a grip on it, and I listen carefully to the voice on the other side of the line.

"Oh. When?"

I listen and abruptly hang up.

I decide to mope around. BECAUSE I CAN WALK FUCK YEAH! So I limp, adventuring the house. Amazingly, I'm not very hungry, so I completely ignore the fridge, so I just limp around, thinking, wondering, just sulking around, when Toby, who I didn't realise had ceased his yells of frustration and left the den of gaming, and when he walked right into me, I bounced right off his chest (which felt surprisingly well-defined for a gamer, might I add. And I'm pretty sure he does abs).

"Oh! Sorry, you okay?" Toby asks, as I grip his wrist for support.

"Fine," I tell him, "Just I have to go back to the Hospital later, so… I'm just sulking around."

"Ah. When?" Toby asks, not even shaking of my fingers.

"Two." I say, and I let go of his rest when I'm positive I can stand properly.

"Ah, well, I was about to go out for filming anyway around then, so how about we go get some coffee and then I'll drop you off?" Toby offers, and we start moving to the couch, me taking unsure steps, him taking confident strides.

"Sure, I like coffee," I say, and I rap my knuckles against the space beneath the keyboard on the laptop. I close the lid, since it's nearing two, and grab the Tobuscus zip-up hoodie I've leeched from Toby.

"Onwards!" I command, and I literally hop out the door.

I curl my fingers around the steaming cup of coffee, and it burns my fingers, but I don't really care.

I raise the cups to my lips and take a sip. Then I put it down really fast, because it's burning my fingers, and my tongue, and apparently I do care, after all.

Toby grins from the other side of the smooth table top, and I tug my sleeves over my hands, and then go back to the coffee.

I hear some other people enter, but I pay them no attention, at least until a loud squeak pierces the air.

"It's Juliet and Toby!"

I look up to see two girls and a guy frozen in some sort of amazement.

Toby turns around to look at them, and we both grin at the paralysed teenagers.

Then they rush to us, and sit down.

"Hi," I say.

"How's it going?" Toby asks.

"Holy shit," one of the girls in breathing in. "That's so cute, she's wearing one of Toby's hoodies, omfg, they're real, they're actually right here, I bet I could lick their faces, but that'd be creepy, omfg, omfg, holy shit, omfg."

She's very pretty, with dark streaks in her dark blonde hair. She has thick, dark eyebrows, but it only adds to her attractiveness. The girl next to her has likewise looks, but with thin eyebrows and has mousy brown hair. The boy accompanying them has messy black hair, and very ruddy cheeks.

The guy sits right next to me, and the girls with Toby.

"This is some good coffee," I comment, as one of the girls takes a deep breath and begins to ask, "Are you and Juliet dati-!"

I look up to see four pairs of eyes looking at me, apparently surprised that I have a voice box.

"It is," I mutter, and the teenage boy is so near to me that I can _feel _him laughing.

I squash up against the cool wall, and wonder why he's so close. I'm 27, not 15. Jesus, back off, kiddo. I mean, I already love him – he is obviously one of my subscribers, and we're all a great family of murderers, oops, monkeys, already, so… Not in the LOVE way, that'd be kind of paedophilic. But in the, hey, bro, I love ya, no worries, kay? kinda way. If I am in love with anybody, like, LOVE love, then I think I have a faint idea of with who...

"You guys should get some coffee, too," I suggest. "I'm pretty sure you guys didn't come here just so you could sit awkwardly with us." I say, rolling up my sleeves. It's suddenly became kind of muggy in here.

The group of teenagers laugh and I lean my head on the wall and eye Toby while they order.

He shrugs and grins at me.

I give a faint smile, but it's dropped from my face when the boy's hand wraps around my arm and painfully yanks it out from under the table.

I give a cry of pain and Toby's attention, which had been focused on one of the girl's gushing about how much she loved his and my videos, whips back to me and he looks shocked.

"Holy shit!" the boy exclaims.

He actually jabs one of my yellowing bruises with a pointed finger. Like, he stabs his finger into my flesh, like, heard of personal space, bro?

I attempt to pull back my arm, but to no avail. It just hurts my arm more, and I think my eyes are watering.

I gave a short yelp of pain, and he _doesn't_ let go.

"Excuse me, but I think you're hurting her," Toby says, his voice even. Obviously less than pleased. Maybe even a little pissed.

The boy looks up at my face- and is for some reason surprised to see the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I just-" his voice mumbles down until I can't hear his apologies clearly, and he drops my arm, looking down at his coffee in shame.

I yank my sleeve back down over my arm.

"I'm sorry, Juliet, he's just a bit morbid- he wants to be a doctor, and-"

"It's fine, I'm going to the Hospital after this anyway, and if you meet a doctor called Mandy-Renee Scott, keep away from that crazy bitch," I cut in, because I don't want apologies, I just… hrm. I feel uneasy. I don't know why, but I feel on edge. The blonde-y girl smiles. Probably storing about how I described a doctor as a crazy bitch deep into the recesses of her mind.

"Uhm, Juliet, so how did you get those?" the boy asks.

"Is Toby or Jack abusive?" the girl with the brown hair asks, her thin eyebrows shooting upwards.

"No, but I-" I turn to the boy, to give him a reasonable lie, or maybe the truth, but I don't know which I'm planning to give him, because as I look at him, I catch a glimpse over his shoulder, and my breathe catches in my throat.

I didn't want to talk about my bruises, for fear it'd give me flashbacks of fear, perhaps pain, but nothing could give me clearer, more lucid flashbacks than the man sitting at another table, with the curls dropping over his black eyes. He raises an eyebrow as if saying, 'Well? Expose me to everyone here, stay put, or leave?'

My breathing's hitched up in my throat.

The boy looks at me, puzzled.

"Juliet?" he asks, but in that second, I've turned back to Toby, grabbed his hand over the clear table and started tugging on it.

"Julie?" Toby repeats the boy, confused.

"We need to leave. Now." I say, and I can hear my voice cracking. I think my eyes are become teary again.

"Why? Are you okay?" Toby asks, surprised, but the teenagers begin shuffling out of the seats, and I say, "He's here. The- the person," and Toby looks around, "Which one is he?"

I shake my head, my blonde curls whizzing everywhere.

"Let's leave, Toby. Please." I'm openly crying now, but not loud, so no-one's paying much attention to us.

No-one but the man who assaulted me a few weeks back.

We mumble excuses to our subscribers, and before I know it, we're outside, and I'm shaking.

Before Toby can question me more, I'm running down the street, shakily, and my ankle _hurts_, but I don't stop until I've found an alleyway, and I bolt down it, and when I meet the dead-end, I sink to my knees, my fingers sliding down the rough bricks, tears slipping off of my face and making dark patches on the ground.

I sit myself in the corner of the dead-end, and I furiously start trying to wipe away the water still running down my cheeks, from both how scared I was- am-, and the throbbing, keening pain in my ankle.

"Juliet?" Toby calls. My vision, blurry right now, is annoying me, since I can't see properly where he is.

"Toby?" I call, and my voice sounds small and scared.

How accurate.

"Julie! Are you okay?" Toby's footsteps sound so much like they did before, in that other alley, the one that ran in between the apartments and the other building along side it.

"No." I choke out, and I curl my legs up to my chin.

Toby kneels down in front of me, but I can only tell because of the sound of his shoes scraping, and because he rests his hand on my knee.

"It'll be okay, Julie, it's not now, but it will be." he said, in such a comforting way I was so happy that he was the one who found me.

"Will it?" I find myself asking, doubtfully.

"Yes. You've already got the greatest career- your YouTube gaming. Your fans do care about you- back in there, the girl kept asking questions, like how is Juliet, how did that happen, and she kept threatening to smash up whoever did that. And Jack and me are here, right? And the police will find that guy. It's going to be fine, Juliet."

A small voice in my mind repeated that, 'It's going to be fine.'

I give a small nod, but before any words can spill out of my mouth, something happens that leaves me happy, excited, confused, and I don't know what else all at the same time.

Toby's lips are pressed against mine, and his hand goes to cup my cheek.

Oh sweet mercy.

* * *

**I ****_know _****you like that last part, guys. :P Bet you LOVE it. NOW REVIEW AND STUFF BECAUSE I NEED TO MOVE ON TO THE NEXT CHAPTER, and I haven't written it yet! Any ideas for it? (They'd be SO appreciated!)**


	17. Tracking

**Just apologizing, because I forgot to slap in some, A MINUTE LATER or AN HOUR LATER, into last chapter, and I misspelled wrist as rest. I AM AN IDIOT. Also, this chapter is a crap load longer than the rest of them- I felt obliged to make it more than 2000 words, because of last chapter's finish. **

**Anyway, on wards to this chapter, which I'm sure a few of you have been eagerly awaiting, :P**

* * *

_ 'It's going to be fine, Juliet."_

_A small voice in my mind repeated that, 'It's going to be fine.'_

_I give a small nod, but before any words can spill out of my mouth, Toby's lips are pressed against mine._

_Oh sweet mercy._

Toby's POV (because I can SUCKA)

She's scared. I can tell that much, as I kneel in front of her. Her strange, but beautiful purple eyes are swimming with tears. It's making me upset, though I'm not sure why. Because she's a good friend, or…?

I doubt she can see clearly, and even though she's terrified, all I can think about is her rosy pink lips.

I'm an idiot. Seriously, I should be locked up purely because I'm an idiot. (Steven's an idiot too, but this isn't about him)

"Will it?" Juliet asks, her voice trembling. Her voice is laced with doubt- no wonder.

"Yes." I tell her. It's going to be fine. "You've already got the greatest career- your YouTube gaming. Your fans do care about you- back in there, the girl kept asking questions, like how is Juliet, how did that happen, and she kept threatening to smash up whoever did that. And Jack and me are here, right? And the police will find that guy. It's going to be fine, Juliet." My mouth forms the words, and they pop out without hesitation or falter.

She seems to pause for a few seconds, but in those few seconds, I've made up my mind.

Hey, maybe it's the wrong timing, or it's going to ruin everything, but it's a spur of the moment kind of thing, and you can't argue with that.

I think she's about to say something, but I lean in towards her and I push my lips against her.

I move one hand to cup her face, and her hand flies up to it, as if surprised- which I guess she is.

I know Mandy-Renee did something of this sort to me, but I'm not trying to de-clothe Juliet, or even force myself upon her, so it's not sexual assault… right?

Nope, nope, nope, definitely not, _definitely not_, I think, as Juliet responds, and it's isn't a rejection. Her fingers intertwine with mine, and I think I can feel a smile on her lips.

Guess I didn't screw everything up.

LIKE AN HOUR OR SO LATER

Juliet's POV

I sit or perch, on another one of those frustratingly uncomfortable Hospital chairs, tapping my fingers restlessly against the hollow wood of the desk in front of me.

The doctor wasn't in the room, so I sat alone in the annoyingly tidy office, as he went to have a little confidential chat with a nurse or something along those lines.

Even more annoying, when I entered the Hospital, apart from the nurse who _completely _lost her shit when Toby dropped me off and kissed me goodbye, Justin Bieber was playing. You know, that weird lesbian girl that wears guy's clothes and refuses to have normal hair-styles.

Yeah, that chick was singing in the background. Or guy, I honestly don't know his/her gender. Let's just say Bieber is a he-she. A shemale. Yeah.

My head whipped up, a halo of platinum blonde curls bouncing around; settling on my shoulders, as the doctor gently closed the door behind him.

"Took your time," I say, maybe a bit rudely, before I can think that over.

The doctor merely smiles, and takes his seat opposite of me, the chair making no sound as it's forced backwards to make room for his rotund belly.

My feet tap on the thick carpet- I hope there aren't any thumbtacks or Lego strewn amongst the fallen pens- I swear I didn't knock anything over.

Fine, I'm lying. But the judgemental, blue rimmed tin _so _deserved to be pushed unceremoniously from the desk it had been judging me on. It had offended me, and therefore I had gone all Sparta on it.

You can't blame me.

Yes you can.

I think it was judging me because of my petite size.

Some elves are small, aren't they?

And Toby has elvish ears.

Maybe the tin doesn't like elves.

That's racist.

Racist, judgemental tin of pens. Bitch.

I had a perfectly legit reason to whack it off the desk.

The doctor clears his throat, and I look up at him.

He reminds me of a walrus, with his big belly and impressive moustache.

Didn't I say something about walruses before?

Walruses are cool.

This doctor's cool.

I have a really short attention span. Not surprising, after Toby shocked the sense out of me with his lips.

"After we did an ultra-sound on your arm, this was found," he informs me in his deep, rumbling voice, and he slides a file across the table.

Unsuspecting, thinking of the happy, blissful, unexpected moments I'd shared with Toby a mere hour or so ago, I almost let it fall down over the edge of the table.

But my fingers clamp down upon the yellow, thick paper and, curious, I opened it, and pulled out a document or something.

My eyes lock down on one short phrase, and then the doctor, who has noted my frozen position, states,

"There's a tracker in your upper arm, Miss Caster."

LET'S SWITCH TO TOBY'S POINT OF VIEW NOW :D

FOR SUSPENSE!

My fists are about to smash onto the keyboard, but I rethink it and aim for the table that supports my computers. Juliet'd be pissed if I broke this keyboard.

"GOD DANGIT!" I yell, though I sound a bit… distracted. You can guess why, I think?

"Happy Wheels, you don't make me happy! You should be called ANGRY WHEELS! RAH!" I fume, my attention back on the screen.

As you may guess, I'm playing Happy Wheels, and ultimately FAILING AT THIS DAMN LEVEL.

I cover my face and growl. I've been playing for about 15 minutes, so I guess I'll finish this level next time.

I lift my head and say, with a rogueish grin, "Thanks for watching! Click the annotation in the top right to watch the next video! Bless your face. If you sneezed during this video, bless you. Peace off. BOOP."

I click a few things, and then I stand up and stretch out my cramped limbs.

Jesus, I was playing Minecraft, BioShock Infinite, Slender: The Arrival, and the Akinator before this, so I'd been sitting down for a … reasonable… unreasonable length of time.

I scoop up my phone from its perch on the kitchen counter, where I had dumped it after I had found it chilling with the bananas and apples and shit(I honestly have no idea how it got there, but I suspect Jack had hidden it there before his date or whatever).

I started scrolling down some messages, and one of them outrageously said,

_Hey Tob_y,

_Do you play Farmville? If you do, do you think you could send me a bushel or something?_

_Thankksssssss or too badddddddd._

And also, less offensive than that one,

_HEY TOBY FAHKING TURNER_

_I AM HAVING A PARTY WITH A FEW YOUTUBERS TONIGHT DO YOU WANNA COME?_

_Also, Juliet can come too, even though she SHOULD be in the kitchen making some sandwiches with Marzia, who also refuses to make sandwiches._

_THANKS BRO_

_With so much love that you want to put it in a nipple, Pewds xxx_

_P.S. Do you know if Juliet makes good sandwiches?_

Felix sends really… interesting texts.

But I'm sure Juliet would be fine with coming, and she'd probably reacted aggressively if I demanded her get her ass in the kitchen and make me a sandwich.

Yeah, asking her to make me a sandwich sounds like putting on Lady Gaga's meat dress and stepping into a cage of hungry, wild lions.

Dangerous, at least, fatal, probably.

As I skim down the messages, some of them asking if I'll be at Felix's party, I find one from Juliet. Which brings on a few, uhh… well, fantasies, I guess, but… ah… SHUT UP.

_Hey, Toby, you should really get your ass down here, because I'm freaking out a bit. (bit = a shit ton)_

Freaking out a shit ton? That doesn't sound very good, so I snatch up a jacket, grab my keys and march off to the car, to find out the mysteries of why Juliet's freaking out. Hopefully she hasn't got AIDS. Wait, wut?

A SHORT DRIVE TO THE HOSPITAL, INCLUDING GETTING HARASSED BY A NURSE WHO TOBY HAD EVENTUALLY JUST IGNORED, LATER!

Oh shit, I've forgotten where Juliet's room is! I pause in the corridor. You'd be sure you'd remember where you slept for two nights and had a crazed nurse try and unzip your pants at, but apparently not. The shelves and bottles lining the walls all look so alike, how am I supposed to know?!

Luckily, a yell of, "FUCK THAT SHIT" brings me in the right direction.

Well, Juliet isn't known for being particularly kind or gentle with her words…

I'm surprised they haven't just drugged her to make her shut up with the swearing.

When I step in Juliet's Hospital room, I'm confronted by a strange sight.

A nurse is bending over Juliet, a firm frown on his square face, a syringe or needle, which looks point and sharp, clasped inbetween his short fingers, whilst Julie is shrieking obscenities, pushing the arm wielding the needle away from her.

When she catches sight of me in the doorway, she gives the nurse one more final _shove_, and then she swings her skinny legs over the size of the bed and gallops over to me, and when our bodies collide, we take a brief moment to just, well, hold each other, I guess, but the cute, bonding experience is kind of ruined when Juliet half turns her head and pokes her tongue out at the nurse, who looks bewildered.

A dark shadow crosses his face, and he marches out of the room, his head held aloft to maintain any dignity that Juliet had not shrieked, scratched, or stolen from him.

I help Juliet to her bed and she drops down onto the white sheets.

"So, what's up?" I ask, situating myself next to her on the bed. She gives a half-hearted smile. "Well," Juliet begins tentatively. She seems hesitant to go on, but she twists away from me and grabs a yellow file off of the cabinet beside her bed.

"They uh… found _this _in my cut." She says as she hands it over to me.

I slip the parchment hiding inside into my hand, and skim over the letters.

"What's _this_?" I enquire, apparently not finding the important part yet.

"A tracker." Juliet says flatly. "They've found a tracker in my cut, from when the person assaulted me.

That's why he was at the coffee place, and I think he knows where I'm staying, too."

My eyes find that part of it too late, but I give a short nod of confirmation.

"Hope we've got good locks, Toby." For some reason, her saying, 'we've' instead of 'you've', gives me a short kind of thrill, but I guess that's my idiotic kicking up again, eh?

"Yeah, they're pretty good." I inform, and I stuff the paper back into the file as if it's insulted my mother, and toss it back to Juliet.

It lands in her lap, and she looks down at it, apparently unimpressed by it.

"So I'm guessing you've got surgery to remove it?"

Juliet gives a short nod, and she looks up, back at me, and her fingers knead the blankets she's sitting upon.

"Yeah." I can tell through her voice that she's not looking forward to it, and apparently she senses that, because she adds, "I hate getting needles."

"Why?" I ask. I mean, sure, I kind of freak out in a manly way when the offer to jab me with needles, but I don't shriek and shove them away, so I'm guessing Juliet's got some kind of phobia of them.

"It's… Ugh. They're shoving these thin, sharp knives into your flesh and jabbing it into your veins, sucking out your blood like a vampire, well, a non-sparkle-y one, or injecting these damaging drugs into you bloodstream. It's… just… ugh." She shudders.

As if I'm comforting her, I shuffle the few extra inches and draw her back into my arms. She's so short, but she doesn't seem intimidated by taller people. She lets herself be pulled onto my lap.

After a moment or two of hesitation, she wraps her arms around my waist and snuggles her face into my chest, seemingly content to stay there, her legs dropping over the side of the bed.

She's cold, I think, as I lay one hand on her one bare shoulder. The soft, thick aqua shirt that is draped over her torso is one of those which have the kind of droopy shoulder thing, but the other shoulder is snugly covered.

I guess I'm radiating heat, because her skin seems to warm under my hand.

I'd be content to stay like this for a while, but then a doctor, accompanied by the same, harassed man-nurse from before, enters the room, and we're forced apart.

After telling us when the surgery will be, and that Juliet does not have to stay in the Hospital, we're free to go, so we go along the wide halls, hand in hand.

"Oh, Felix is having a party with some YouTubers," I say, feeling that the thick silence, though not awkward, needs to be penetrated.

After filling her in on all the YouTubers a few days ago, (she'd said that she was like the female Pewdiepie, which I took to mean that she enjoys his videos), she seemed eager to meet Felix, and the other YouTubers, so she readily agreed, seeming pleased.

When we got outside, it was surprising how cold it still was. It hadn't rained, nor snow, but it was just one of those cloudy, windy days, though they seemed to end quickly, fortunately.

She slipped into the passenger seat whilst I walked around the bonnet and plonked into the driver's side.

Once the car's rolling, and the windows up, the air has become warm, and I think that Juliet's a bit drowsy.

Her head leans against the glass of the window, and she's vacantly staring outside the car, until the car gutters to a stop in my- _our _– driveway, and then she bounds out of the car and up to the dark, wooden door.

"Come on," she beckons as I take my sweet time locking the doors and making sure I've got everything.

"Err, vamonos!" she says.

I give a snort and ask, "Since when are you a Spanish eight year old?"

I stuff the key into the lock as she retorts with, "I can _so _be a pale 27 year old Dora! Expect, y'know, I'd get lost a whole lot more often…" she trails off. She gives her head a vigorous shake and bounces inside the house. Grinning like an idiot, I follow her.

* * *

**REMEMBER PEOPLE I LIKE REVIEWS AND FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES, so do that stuff. Kay? kay. Love, Lainare. Or, ****_With so much love that you want to put it in a nipple, Lainare xx_**

**Hehehe. Also, Juliet may or may not get drunk in the next chapter. Don't know, haven't written it yet. If you've got any ideas for this story, feel free to share!**


	18. Different Perspective

**Warning: The first part of this chapter: Morbid. The second part: Funny, cute. But you have to go through the morbid part first. HAHA Enjoy! 3**

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A solitary figure stood, hidden in the long shadows cast by the tall lamp posts.

He had deep set, black eyes and reddish brown curls framed his heavily defined face. He hated his hair- it got in his eyes, and in between his thin lips, but he didn't cut it.

All of his scissors weren't for hair, but adapted for slicing through soft skin.

His skin, he knew, wasn't soft, but somehow that bitch that got away had torn through the skin on his finger with her own bare teeth.

He rubbed the jagged, lumpy scars lining his fingers, and uttered a curse under his breath as a sharp sting zinged through his hand. He was going to cut up her pretty mouth first, he thought, slow and painful. He was going to make sure her own blood filled her mouth, and he was going to make sure she felt more pain than the rest of the women he'd taken. But the thoughts fled from his mind as a woman came into view, walking down the street, alone.

Perfect.

She was drastically different from the woman who'd escaped. This one had short, dark hair that lay in a neat line across her shoulders, and her height was normal for her age, or what the man presumed to be her age. Her grey eyes were glued to an iPod touch, and her thumb flicked across the bright screen, and she paused for a moment to change the song.

That was all the time he needed.

He leapt out of the shadows, and before the woman could notice any distrubance, he'd wrapped an arm around her neck and covered her mouth, her scream stiffled by his hand. He made sure his hand was securely over her mouth.

Usually, he knocked them out first. He kept the women for a while, using them, cutting them, then killing them, or perhaps keeping them. If one escaped, the last thing he'd want was one telling the police where these damaged women were. But this one- he just wanted a... canvas, if you will. Someone to cut and kill immediately.

He dragged her back to the shiny black car, and tossed her like a rag into the boot. Her body thudded, and it sounded somewhat painful, but what did the man care? That pain would soon seem like falling onto a bed of silken pillows and fluffy bed sheets, in compare to what he had stored.

Her screams, he noticed, satisfacted, were impossible to hear when he slammed the boot shut.

As he climbed into the car, he felt an excitement build up in him. What patterns would he slice into the woman's tan skin? Should he take something of hers? A necklace, a lock of her hair? Her grey eyes?

Many minutes later, thoughts abuzz with excitement, he pulled sharply into the dirt track and heard the woman's body hitting the padded door in the back as the car jerked to a stop.

He grasped the thick coil of rope from the passenger seat and exited the car, slamming the door shut behind him as he walked around.

As soon as he flicked the door open, the woman's screams started piercing the air. He lived on a farm, quite empty of neighbours, so he let her holler. No-one would hear, anyway.

He wound the rope around her arms and torso. He forced her to walk, and when her legs didn't move, she was dragged across the ground, yelps emitting from her full lips.

Pretty lips, he thought, but they weren't the right colour. Not just the right shade, the rosy pink that was the last supposed to be victim's.

The barn, it's doors ajar, was where he kept the pretty women he kidnapped. He took them in here. He had a special corner for when he wanted to 'paint'. The women still alive wandered in a lost way around the barn. If you saw them, you'd think them ghosts, they had no interest in anything anymore. Not their life, not others. They didn't dare attempt to leave- if they did, death was sure to follow, though they weren't afraid of that anymore. They had patterns cut into their skin, neat pink scars carved into their faces, curled around their arms, and every inch of skin had something added to it. The man thought it beautiful; but in truth, it was hideous, and the once beautiful women now ignored everything reflective. They were still beautiful, but the scars seemed to be screaming how hideous and unnerving to look at they were. The man only took beautiful women, because he believed that his knives made them look better, and worse at the same time: he revelled in their pain.

The dead bodies lie strewn around, somewhat artistically, though morbid. More than morbid. The scars in the purple skin were lumpy. Those were the first the man had taken, before his hand had become accustomed to the curving, supple skin that the women have.

The kidnapper face split into a wide grin when he pushed the doors open and found the dead and living all still there. One woman, who seemed blank, curiously went to peer at the newcomer.

Fat tears rolled down the girl's face as she saw the dead hung from the walls, and the living moping around like lost souls.

The lost woman's shoulder brushed against the man's as she openly stared at the fresh, smooth girl- he dropped the rope holding the girl and shoved the woman into the wall. She made no sound of pain, but just dropped to her knees, her face covered by her pale, almost translucent hands. When was the last time she'd seen the sun? They didn't even dare look out the windows anymore.

The girl seemed too shocked to take her chance for freedom. She didn't run, but sat in shock at the now silently weeping woman.

The man once again seized her rope and tugged her along to his 'painting corner'.

Once she saw the array of knives, scissors, even an axe, frenzied garbles of panic rose from her throat.

Her name was Marion. She had a boyfriend whom she loved and shared an apartment with, and though she rarely spoke to her parents, she had two younger brothers who she adored, and an eccentric best friend. Just last night she'd went to a party with her friends and boyfriend, oblivious to her fate.

Today, she was going to die.

But as the hour dragged on, she wished death would take her already.

The man closed his eyes, wondering how he would slice her skin.

His brows furrowed- how?

He tried imagining the one he now longed to obtain for his morbid collection. He tried imagining the dark, straight line of short hair into long, pale curls and ringlets, and her frozen, grey eyes into large amethysts, framed by dark lashes. Trying to imagine her smaller, more fiesty, though more frail, and with a burning passion in her eyes other than the terrified frozen stare. Marion wasn't Juliet, but he could pretend she was.

Smiling in a satisfied way, he took a particularly cruel looking pair of scissors and bent over Marion, and the lost women roamed behind him, no reaction on their pale, scarred faces as Marion's shrieks pierced the night air, as her screams turned to whimpers, begging for mercy from the scissors and knives that dragged through her skin, begging for mercy from her own hot blood, which ran over her body until cold, as her whimpers turned to silence.

JULIET'S POV

"Toby, c'mon," I whine, gently tugging on his sleeves.

"Julie, it's not for two hours," Toby said, unrelenting. I groan and wrap my arms around his, trapping him, my cute prisoner.

He turns to look down at me and smiles.

I give him a teasing smile in return, and he dips his head and kisses me.

His hand drops to cup my face, and, well, when Jack walks in a few minutes later to find me and Toby making out on the couch, well, he's... definitely surprised. And in a mood for swear words. I often am myself.

I'm grumbling profanities and insults as I drop my foot onto the floor and rock back off of Toby, and Jack asks, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

"What do you mean, what the fuck? Not your house, knock, fag." I say, and I'm glad to see that Jack still knows not to take me serious.

"Fuck you," he replies with, but then as he passes into the kitchen he yells over his shoulder, "Or is Toby doing that?"

My mouth drops into an 'o', and my cheeks glow red, and I can hear Jack cackling from the kitchen.

Toby heaves out a sigh and props himself back up on the sofa/couch/lounge, I don't fucking know what the correct word is. Love seat? That just sounds really sexual to me, for some reason.

Distracted by how messy his hair now is, (Didn't do it! ... Yes I did...haha) I give an attempt to un-mess-ify his hair, which doesn't turn out all that great.

"Want me to try and fix yours?" Toby offers.

"My hair's always messy, no-one will notice a difference," I tell him, but Jack replies with, "Well I noticed you mouth screwing Toby on the couch!"

"Well you were probably mouth raping Ayla!" I snap back, but my voice kind of falls off at the end.

"Whatever... Ugh, you've found out where the phone is!"

"And I've found out your laptop password!" I retort with. "Wait, what phone?"

"Mine," Toby says, "Why did you put it in the fruit basket, Jack?"

"Because I thought you liked bananas. I was obviously wrong. And how did you find out my laptop password?"

"Magic, Jack. Magic."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you hear? Friendship is magic."

"No."

"Fuck you."

And that's how a normal conversation goes, guys.

Or is it different for normal people?

Anyway, we ended up not bringing up my tracker, and instead Pewdiepie's party was brought into the conversation.

"Yeah, I was invited too," Jack says, ignoring my question of "Are you a coffee god?" when he's brung us coffee and seated himself on the floor.

"GRYPHON WANTS SOME COFFEE TOO!" I exclaim, as the dog comes prowling our way, presumably in the hope of finding out what the delectable smell is. Both of the men startle at my sudden, loud contribution to their sleepy conversation.

"Sir Gryphon," I nod my head respectfully to the lord.

The Lord of Diamond Swords.

I mean the Lord of Dog Treats.

Pfffftttt, shiet, I dunno.

I'm a woman, indesicive, whatever.

We start guessing who'll be at Felix's party, which turns into a game, which I'm pretty sure I'm winning, what, with my guesses of Felix, Marzia, Toby, Jack and myself.

"I wonder if Olga will be there. That'll start something," Jack says, and I look at them both in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I ask, staring at both of them exchanging a glance. Jack's spoke of mischief, Toby's spoke of uncertainty.

"Toby went out with Olga a while ago," Jack says, smoothly interupting whatever words where going to come out of Toby's mouth.

"Oh." I say. "I hope she doesn't scratch my face off."

I hope she won't banquish me. My only lady-friend, too.

Awh.

That'd suck.

**A few hours or so after Jack had left so he could pick up his girlfriend Ayla and then after Toby and Juliet had drove to Pewds's and Juliet had wondered aloud at Felix's obsession with nipples LATER (woo**_)_

Well, that's a lot of cars, I think, as I lean against the door after I get out.

I recognise Jack's, so Ayla must be less fussy than me when it comes to getting dressed.

That's pretty un-fussy. Or maybe she's just less lazy.

Probably the latter.

Toby appears at my side, and offers me his arm.

"M'lady," he says.

"Why of course, My Lord," I say, and I link our arms together. "Let's go!"

A number of other YouTubers are already there, and at the sight of me many of them break out of conversation to check out the new YouTube famous person whatever.

Since Jack had me research every YouTuber that had over a million subbies when Toby was filming something, I knew everyone's name as well as they knew mine.

When Toby went to chill with some of his friends, a hand shoots out of no-where, grips my wrist and tugs me into a less crowded area.

It was a girl.

I didn't recognise her, but she had blonde curls like me, but they were darker blonde and more wavy than curly.

She's very curvy and has twinkling light blue eyes. Freckles dot her face.

"Ah. So you're Juliet," she says. She seemed to scrutinize me, and then nodded in approval and said, "I'm Ayla, Jack's woman. So you're Toby's lady?"

"I would hardly call myself a lady," I say, grinning. She grins back and then, as if deciding we're destined to be great friends, we park our asses down on the ground where we're standing and start talking about stuff.

Eventually she spots Jack, and gives a wave goodbye and darts off to claim him.

I stand up, and turn around after seeing Ayla bump into Jack and wind her arms around him, to decide to where to venture next.

"Do you make good sandwiches?" Felix, Pewdiepie, demands.

I startle when he's suddenly right in front of me, but he continues: "Toby didn't say if you made him sandwiches."

"Toby can make his own god damn sandwiches," I say. "Does Marzia make _you _sandwiches?"

"Sometimes, but she never makes me nipple sandwiches…" Felix looks a bit lost, and I ask about his obsession with nipples.

He shrugs, and I suppose I make another friend.

Damn, I'm on a roll.

And then there's some alchohol.

I'm very pleased to say that I know how to handle my liquor, though evidently Olga and Ayla aren't very good at it. Marzia doesn't drink much, just small sips of some wine.

Toby and a group of his friends are just drinking at a normal pace, apart from Sean Klitzner. I swear, he's chugging it down.

Ayla trips into the wall and Olga seems to be wanting to convince people she has hooves.

"Oh Olga," Jack sighs as he passes her to get Ayla back up.

I decide to find my other half, so I wander about in search of Toby.

Eventually I find him sitting in a group of other men. They're all bigger than me.

But I'm a bad-ass, so I walk through them and sit beside Toby.

"Had enough to drink?" I question Sean.

"Definitely not," he mutters. He's tipsy as shit, but he seems to want to keep drinking. I don't stop it. I find it hilarious when people get drunk off their shit.

And Ayla's tripped over again.

Jack sure does know how to pick his women.

I don't drink as much alcohol as I normally would've done, seeing as I don't want to have to be carried out, something Ayla seems fine with.

I cast my gaze around, Toby's arm slung over my shoulders, for the crazy couple, and find them plastered to each other.

I blush and duck my head awkwardly.

I know my face goes red when I drink, and though I haven't been drinking as much as normal, I certainly have been drinking a lot, so I'm hoping my blush gets passed off as how tipsy I guess I am starting to show.

Marzia doesn't seem to be fooled though, as she passes she catches sight off my face and grins.

Eventually Olga, who's walking around, _insisting_ that her hands are hooves, is evacuated by Shane Dawson. Shane's got strange hair, but he's a new friend too, so I smile and wave at them when they leave.

I feel really happy in this crowd of YouTubers, even when Harley from Epic Meal Time shakes my hand and almost crushes it.

He's probably the one most able to drink the most alcohol and be un-affected by it, seeing as all of the food he's possibly ever created have a decent proportion of alcohol in it.

Well, by the time iJustine has asked how Toby and I met, we're all, to some degree, tipsy, and my cautions about not letting anyone know but those who necessary flies right out the window.

Yup.

I tell them all about these fading bruises. Not the tracker chip- my intoxicated mind seems to have forgotten about that.

Toby's gone off somewhere, but by the time I'm finished recounting my violent fight for freedom, he's back, and surprised, shocked.

I went into even more detail than what I first told Jack and Toby, and they didn't ask for more details since, anyway.

Even though I had practically just dropped a nuclear bomb, the first thing to slip out of my mouth was, "I wonder if bacon flavoured whiskey is real."

Yup. I think it's time to go home and stop being an idiot, and apparently Toby agrees, because soon we're out into the biting wind and waiting for that taxi to roll down the street.

I tug Toby's arms around my shoulders and he leans his chin on the top of my head.

We haven't really said much, but what is there to say? Anyway, we're drunk and tired, and when the taxi has done its duty and we're back at home, we go back to our separate bedrooms.

After changing, I feel that the room is kind of lonely. I decide I'm not drunk enough to actually SLEEP with Toby (If you get what I mean by that), so I find my way to his bedroom and roll into his bed with him.

He seems to accept my company, and he draws his arms around me. I snuggle my face into his shirt, and sling my arms around him, too. And then, entangled together under the heavy blankets, we go to sleep. Together.

* * *

**Toby and Juliet are fucking adorable. Juby is my new OTP.**

**If you have any better shipping names for them, tell me, because Juby sounds weird. BUT DON'T MESS WITH MY OTPS BITCHES!**

**Review, Follow, Fave, WHATEVER, Private Message me if you want, and yadda yadda yadda. Thanks for reading, tell me if you liked it, but seriously, is there bacon whiskey? **


	19. Level Up?

**I apologize. This chapter is kind of... not epicly fantabulous in my opinion.**

* * *

When I landed in my dream, I was at this place. I'm guessing it's a barn. The walls were tall, supported by long, pale beams of wood. There were bales of hay around the ground, and there was a ladder-y thing leading to an upper floor or something. That had small clumps of hay falling off of it.  
It wouldn't seem a place for nightmares, so I was guessing I had to go outside or something.  
Yet when I move to the tall, wide doorway, and try to open the door, it doesn't even budge. Not even when I place my shoulder on it and press with all my weight. I'm not that strong anyway, but it kind of displeases me that it won't open. I suppose my dream doesn't want me to go outside.  
So the horror is supposed to happen in here. Right.  
Apart from red splashes splattered across the walls, which I pray is just paint, and a corner which is covered with the 'red paint', which has arrays of knives and stuff, the barn doesn't seem bad. Not yet.  
I decide to check out the knives- they don't look friendly. As I approach the corner, the lighting visibly darkens. A hot wind blows through the one window on the second floor. I crouch down at the edge of the big pile of hay, which is soaked red. I nudge it with my foot.  
Redness sticks to my shoe, and a single droplet falls from the tip. It soaks back into the hay.  
So not paint. Paint doesn't have that consistency.  
Is it blood? Who's blood is it? Is it-  
An ice cold knife drags across my shoulders, curving around that base of my neck.  
My blood, I think, as the world darkens further. Blood trails down my arm, and sinks into the hay. The knife, again, drives into my back with it's sharp chill- it cuts down the length of my spine. More blood.  
Everywhere. Suddenly the walls are covered from it- it's oozing down the beams, the hay is soaking it up, everything's red- a yell of panic wells in my throat- but never comes out.  
I wake with a start, earlier than usual, even earlier than Toby, and he's usually up at the crack of dawn, being busy and shit.  
Though I don't like waking up early, escaping that nightmare makes it some sort of relief. And where I find myself when I wake very much pleases me.  
Very much.  
I'm still how I fell asleep- in Toby's arms, snuggled under the blanket with him.  
I look up at his still sleeping face. He looks very peaceful.  
Do I look like that when I sleep?  
I don't know. My dreams are crawling with writhing creatures and pain. But I'm ususally as still as a corpse- actually, no, I don't like that comparison, how about... aha! Got it.  
Actually, that's a bit rude to put here. Let's just say, I HAVE gone on omegle, and shit, there's a LOT of desperate guys on there...  
Anyway,  
Sometimes I realise it's a dream, and I turn it into a lucid dream.  
Those are the best dreams, when I can fly or do whatever I please, and change the location and people around me. But I didn't have one last night, no matter how happy or peaceful I looked last night while I slept. I shudder at the memory, and wonder whether I should stay in the bed with Toby or extract myself and eat something.  
The nightmare didn't give me a very good rest...  
So I guess I'm staying with Toby.  
I rest my head against his chest, close my eyes as I listen to his steady heartbeat.  
And I'm lulled back into a more calm, more peaceful sleep.  
LET'S TOSS A FEW MORE HOURS ON AND GO TO THE FUTTTUURREEEEE!  
I'm skimming down YouTube comments on my latest videos; replying to those I deem worthy. A lot of them are, and a lot of them are really bad, sexual puns.  
Someone has actually used, "CAN I SQUIRTLE ON YO JIGGLYPUFFS?!"  
And, I apparently deemed this worthy with a reply, with: Err, no. But I'm going to take "jigglypuffs" as a compliment, since, wow, I'm REALLY flat-chested... (By the way, thanks, Jack, for your comment of : Oh, good, now I don't have to tell you that sometimes I think you're a man you're so flat...)  
And now, another comment catches my attention:  
NarinaLesterIsDaBau5: OMFG AUNTY JULIET WTF ARE YOU DOING BEING YOUTUBE FAMOUS?! THAT IS DAD'S JOB!  
Oh yeah, you know that niece I mentioned a while back? This is her. Narina Lester, Daughter of my sister, Charlotte, and, yup, you guessed it: Phil Lester.  
So I'm RELATED to a famous YouTuber too! :D  
My twin sister, Charlotte, looks a lot like me: though a bit taller, a bit more plentiful in the chest deparment, and her hair, though the same platinum blonde, is straight as a pin, and her eyes are more indigo than purple.  
Also, though still a bit bad with communication, she's better at it than me.  
And when she met Phil Lester, AKA AmazingPhil, she fell heels over heads for him.  
Crazy, lovable bitch she is, he was hooked before long, and now they're married and have their daughter, Narina, who has her daddy's pretty blue eyes, face shape, and mouth, but her mother's taken over the rest of her looks.  
Though she's small for her age, like me. Charlotte and Phil had her when Phil was 16 and Charlotte 17 (no hate brah) , so Narina is 10, and surprising intelligent for her age.  
I'm guessing she got that from Phil...  
So I subscribed to my niece and private messaged her, and I even dropped around twiter and followed her and Phil, and even Charlotte's twitter.  
Before all this YouTube famous stuff, I think the only social media I used was Tumblr.  
Haha...  
So Narina being Narina, she started messaging me like, "You need to come over so I can meet Tobuscus or we need to go to Tobuscus's house so we can see Tobuscus and you."  
Then I ask, "You only want to see Toby, don't you?"

"Admit it."  
"Yeah, that's it."  
"Remember he's taken."  
"Oh! So the rumours ARE true!"  
"FUCK YEAH THEY ARE."  
Amazingly, my niece is fine with swearing.  
"WOOT!"  
"Calm down, sheesh."  
"Okey..."  
And that's that.  
ANOTHER TIME FRAME OF EPICNESS AND WTFNESS  
So this is a great date.  
Good for cuddles, anyway.  
Saw isn't particularly bad, (unless it's the needle pit), but still, is there really a more perfect excuse to snuggle into Toby's chest?  
What was that?  
No?  
Damn right there isn't  
Anyway, Toby and I are camped out on the couch/lounge/sofa whatever the fuck it's called, and his arm is draped around my shoulders while I lean my head against one of his; it's cute, relaxing, and even more so relaxing for Toby.  
He was filming and everything today for Annoying Orange and various other things, so to just sit and watch a scary movie with your girlfriend should be pretty awesome.  
As the needle pit scene becomes nearer and nearer, I start involuntarily tensing up; I fucking hate needles. And when the scene itself comes, I turn my face to nuzzle it into the front of Toby's shirt, my arms moving to create a snuggly loop around his chest.  
I hear him chuckle, and one of his hands rubs my back in a comforting gesture.  
I hope you bastards are "N'awwwww"ing right about now.  
Because if it weren't for the damned needles, I sure would be.  
Either way, I'm too freaked out to return to the movie, so me and Toby go and decide, instead of doing something cute, couple-y and romantic, to both play that iSketch thing that Toby's been playing. And not tell each other our username.  
So I seize on of the computers and drag it around a bit so he can't see. He does the same.  
Then we (he) fix up the webcams and get the game on, and we start playing.  
For some... ODD... reason, I type in my username as: JulietNotTurnerYetCaster  
Because may as well give my subscribers a thrill and weird Toby out.  
So the game starts and I skim my eyes down the list of players:  
BitchezBeTripping  
PotatoLicker  
NuggetLover  
TimTim  
TimTam  
ImAWizard  
and...  
BilboTurner  
"Bilbo Turner, eh?" I ask, grinning as I turn to face him.  
"Juliet Not Turner Yet Caster, huh?" he grins back at me: a faint reddish tinge covers his cheeks as does mine.  
"Err- Well, I SHALL DOMINATE." I yell. Then I type it in for good measure.  
Guess how many of the plays guess correctly who me and Toby are.  
All of them.  
NuggetLover gives a very apparent interest in the "Not Turner Yet" part of my username.  
Creep.  
I love that creep.  
I love everyone.  
Bar physco lady-kidnappers and pyromaniac nurses.  
Those are just... pffffft.  
Whatever.

Like I give a fuck. No, seriously, I've ran out of fucks to give. Spare me some?

Anyway, me and Toby play for a reasonable 12 minutes then we decide that it is kind of late and we should probably be sleeping.

So, since last night was fine (apart from that creepy dream), and Toby seems to want my company again, (Literally he sheepishly asked if I wanted to sleep with him again) I just cuddle back up with him in his bed. REMEMBER NO SEXY TIMES, AND ALSO REMEMBER, SAFE SEX, GUISE!

* * *

**Sorry, I think this chapter is kind of shit, but I have a little case of writer's block... ONLY WITH THIS STORY, THOUGH.**

**All of the other ones I've got stored on my laptop and am working on: FINE. THEY ARE FINE.**

**My brain's just being a bitch.**

**Next chapter will be a LOT better than this one, pwomise! :3**


	20. Juliet Ain't No Hoe!

**Another beautifully morbid beginning to another beautiful chapter! :D Enjoy... I guess! Also, these chapters keep getting longer and longer! That's a good thing, right? Anyway, just... READ. *forces fanfic in yo face***

* * *

Another sick, twisted nightmare in this barn.  
It's been about 2 weeks since the first one, but the fear hasn't lessened.  
I know it's a dream, but I can't do anything, and it's frustrating and freaky and super creepy and annoying and terrifying.  
Slowly they're changing, but not for the better.  
On the third night of this nightmare, a few women had been wandering around. Even though they were near naked- dressed in just very simple undergarments- I'd thought it meant something more optimistic- but when I tried to speak with one of them, they didn't respond, heck, I could barely force the words from my throat. The sounds sounded kind of clogged, heavy, thick, and then that seemed to make sense, when blood started pooling in my mouth, the ice cold knife this time in the woman's hand, as she twisted it inbetween my rib cage, her eyes blank, as if she didn't even know what she was doing.  
This one tonight is far worse.  
Honestly, if this is purely my imagination, I have a seriously fucked up one. Can I please swap with someone else?  
Again in the barn, this time, face down in some dry, crackling, yellow hay, not red with blood.  
Yet.  
I move my hands underneath me and pull myself to my feet.  
I immediately wish I hadn't.  
There have been a gaining number of women in these nightmares, but the number isn't what's so shockingly different this time, though there are more.  
This time intricate patterns are... cut into their skin. Some of the scars curved into their flesh are seeping blood. The women are, again, expressionless. Like they can't feel anything.  
I feel vomit welling in my throat. But the scars imbedded into the women's bodies aren't completely all that's forcing that.  
It's... the dead bodies impaled on the walls.  
I think I might lose my lunch.  
The corpses are as cut up as the living- even more so, since some places you can't cut without killing.  
The lines on some of the oldest looking corpses- the ones that don't have blood seeping down the walls from their numerous cuts- are blotchy and thick on the blue-purple-grey skin. Less intricate, as though these were the first. Thick, rusty nails have been driven through their nails, on their hands and feet. And in their feet, hands. Punctured into their wrists, arms, ankles. Some of them are missing things- like locks of hair, eyes, one doesn't have a mouth.  
They probably were the first to be cut open. I don't want to look at these anymore- I actually want the knife to start slipping into my flesh, and start the onslaught of pain, because that means the end of the dream is nearing.  
But my dream has a different idea.  
You know how in dreams, sometimes you do something you don't want to do, and no matter what, you can't stop?  
Yeah. My feet are being forced, one step at a time, towards the freshest corpses nailed to the walls.  
And I can't even close my eyes. Even if I could, the iron smell of blood is sharp in the air, the stinking retch of dead flesh, and the women are giving out soft wails- the only sign of their misery and pain, apart from their short gasps of breath.  
Before coming to a halt infront of what is clearly the most new corpse, my eyes have the misfortune to stare at the other, new-ish ones. Blood still trickling out of their cuts, mouths, eye sockets...  
Then my eyes fall upon the newest one.  
And I feel a mixture of shock, guilt, and horror.  
This one is... young. Like she's just started college young.  
She had shoulder length, sharp cut black hair that, when alive, must have layed neatly across her shoulders after she brushed it, but now it was mussed, a crazy array of black spikes, some glued together by a thick, red... tar...  
Her eyes were gray. Is that the colour all eyes get when they die?  
I glance at the other new corpses, quickly, though I have no desire to lay my eyes upon their mutilated forms.  
Their eyes aren't grey, they just look a bit like soggy paper mache formed into balls...  
I shudder, and look back up at the dead girl.  
Her eyes must've been a very bright, pretty grey when she was living. But now in death, they were murky, like thick swamp water clogged with dead reeds.  
I don't know her. So why do I feel like her being here, impaled on this wall, is my fault?  
Another glance around, at the living and dead.  
Though I hadn't realised it at first, the scars in their skin aren't the same patterns. Most of them followed the natural curve of the bone or flesh where it was carved.  
I looked back up at the young adult hanging in front of me.  
The cuts in her didn't follow the lines and shapes of her face and body shape.  
Even though blood still oozed from them, and it was senseless and disgusting, I reach up and touched my fingers lightly to her collarbone.  
A swooping curve was engraved there, though her collarbone was straight, unlike mine, which was very-  
Oh god.  
No wonder I felt guilty.  
It wasn't supposed to be her suspended there, dead, nails driven through her flesh and bone, cut up almost beyond recognition. Wasn't supposed to be her.  
It was supposed to be me.  
I could see it clearly now that I knew.  
The sharp angle cut over her cheekbone. Her cheeks were a bit pudgy. Mine are very angled.  
Then the line around the lips wasn't big enough. Wasn't the right shape of her lips. The cut in her full, purple lips was more the shape of mine, and surely that was the shape of my jaw sliced there?  
I feet sick. Shaken, horrorfied, and I want to walk away, to run away, to wake up, why can't I wake up?!  
Even though there's not point to it, the tips of my fingers trace the scars engraved into her body, lightly running over them.  
Down her arms, across her shoulders, the curve where the neck and shoulder meets, and even her hands are carved to somewhat resemble mine.  
I'm wishing so fervently for this to end that when the murmuring of the women behind me stops into a pained silence, I whirl around, almost estatic to begin one kind of pain, to end this torture.  
And there he stands, a large, smooth edged blade held tightly in his thick left hand, black eyes whizzing around, as though admiring his handiwork, and then settling on me.  
My feet feel like they've been glued to the spot, and I have no desire to run away anyway. All I want is for this dream to end...  
And when the knife twists in my stomach and freezes my insides, I let him carve into me without restraint.  
This nightmare, this torture, will be over... soon.

I wake up, and another feeling of relief steals over every other emotion.  
I lie motionless for a few more moments, until I realise that Toby isn't laying down with me, and then I grumble and remember that he- we- have filming and stuff to do, which I'm probably going to have to get up soon to get ready for (I'm so thankful that Toby let me sleep in), and I roll over to lie on my front.  
You might be thinking, I thought that was impossible for girls because of their breasts!  
Well, yeah, for normal girls.  
But I thought we established that I have really small tits.  
Yeah, I ain't very pleased with it, though it's a lot more practical than going around with two giant balls jiggling from your chest, going all over the place. Boobs, though nice, are just very, very impractical and annoying.  
With my chin nestled into the fluffed up pillow, I glare at the clock.  
It's about an hour until we have to get our asses to Shane Dawson's for a skit in his video, and though originally Shane just wanted me, I persuaded him to let Toby come too.  
I didn't want to be stuck in a conversation about poop with no way to escape during between takes, so I thank Aslan and Dumbledore and shit that he got a roll for Toby in there, too.  
I wasn't too sure about my own role, but it's sure to be interesting, to say the least.  
Sighing, I rolled out of bed - literally- and groaned as I fell onto the ground, though swathed as I was in blankets.  
"You up?" Toby calls, and I give him a loud moan in response.  
"Well, we have to go in an hour, so go have a shower or something," Toby says.  
"Noooooo, I will not cooperate, noooooooo," I moan, but I do get up, I do get a bundle of clothes, and I do drag myself to the shower. I do cooperate.  
I'd thought that after that nightmarish encounter with the shower in the Hospital with that pushy nurse might make me hate showers, but it was fine here.  
I just didn't like being given a time limit and being man handled.  
Anyway, so I twist the hot water tap on, realise that it's burning my arm (I always hold one arm into the water to make sure it's the perfect temperature before I fully submerge myself) and I turn on the cold water a little bit. Only a little bit.  
You see, at my old apartment, the showers were difficult to get perfect. If you just gave the cold water tap the slightest nudge, the littlest tug- bam. You had freezing water running down your spine and you were yelping like a banshee at the sudden onslaught of coldness.  
Old habits die hard, but, thankfully, Toby has much more reliable showers.  
After finding a temperature that I like, I slip into the shower and close my eyes briefly as the water runs in rivulets down my back and smoothens my hair down.  
Then I get to work, making myself prettier. I am very, very fucking pleased to tell you all that I no longer am covered in very, very see-able bruises that make you cringe when you look at them and think, wtf crazy sex addict! or something like that.  
Which I am even more thankful for today, because the costume clothes thingo I have to wear for Shane's video is really, really slutty. Like I would never wear that anywhere, but the character I'm playing is a skank, so...  
Also they talked about giving me blue contact lenses to make me even more of one of those popular blonde, blue eyed hoes, but I intervened and injected that I already wear contacts for my sight (I'm short sighted) so I can't.  
The funny thing is, they're stuffing a crap load of padding into a bra that I have to wear, so inbetween sets I have a plan to boast about my fake breast implants.  
Sarcastically, of course. Breast implants weird me out.  
After I'm done making myself pretty, I turn off the taps and dry myself off.  
And after I'm dressed, I go and raid the fridge.  
Toby's just filming a Lazy Vlog, so I'm not surprised when I hear him talking to himself in Gryphon's voice, then in his normal voice, then Gryphon's, then his.  
Yeah, my boyfriend is totally normal.  
Then he comes into the kitchen while I'm eating some cold fucking CHICKEN from last night, because nothing says, I know my nutritional breakfast foods like gnawing on a chicken for breakfast better, am I right? (amirite?)  
So then Toby just kind of stops and stares at me, even going as far as too make sure the audience get a nice view of me leaning against the kitchen sink, chicken leg in one hand, just eating it.  
Then he walks out muttering to the camera, "Juliet likes chicken. She likes potatoes too. She likes every food. Just send her candy to my P.O. box, and I'll make sure she gets it..."  
Oh sure.  
He'll probably just eat it all before I realise it's there!

TIME LAPSE TO SHANE DAWSON'S HOUSE AND TOBY'S POV

"Oh god, this is ridiculous," Juliet mutters, so low that I'm probably the only one that can hear it.  
"They're going to torture me," she adds. Then she blinks and shudders, like she's remembering something awful.  
"It won't be all that bad," I say.  
She turns to glare at me balefully.  
"You're not being forced to wear stuffed bras and get make up caked on your face and get physical- and probably mentally- abused, now are you?" then she goes back at staring moodily as Michael Gallagher and Shane Dawson re-position a few cameras and talk in earnest to a few more actors/actresses.  
I can see the "Oh god no" expression on her face when Shane bounds over to us, and he grins when he sees her face.  
"C'mon, we gotta prep you up! Make you look like a real whore!" Shane says enthusiastically, grabbing her wrist and trying to pull her along. Though she restrains, he is stronger than her, and when she's being tugged away, she mouths at me, "Save me!"  
Nope. Yesterday you told me that you could save yourself when you fell out of bed and I helped you up like a gentleman.  
Save yourself, Juliet.  
But then, to my utmost horror, and Juliet's smug satisfaction, I get pulled away too!  
"I'm already muscular and manly enough," I complain. Michael Gallagher shakes his head with an awfully concealed grin, and Gabe gets pulled along too.  
Oh god!

They've all been prettied or manified up by now, so VROOM

"I don't wanna come out!" I hear Juliet say, obviously panicking.  
"Too bad! Get out there, ya whore!" Shane's trying to coax her out of the house- room in she had been whore-ified. Haha. Gettit? WHOREIFIED. Like horrified, and WHORE- you know what, forget it.  
"No!"  
"If you don't I'll spam pictures of you in that on instagram!"  
"But they'll see it anyway!"  
"EXACTLY, so hurry up and get out!"  
"What-? N-no!"  
"First pic for instagram... Pose, gurl!"  
"Wha- FINE. ASSHOLE, you owe me like 3 buckets of KFC!"  
And with that, the door opened and a very scantily clothed girl stormed out, her arms folded across her barely concealed chest.  
That is Juliet?  
Her hair had been abused with a straightening iron, and they actually had managed to swap her contacts for blue ones, and swept dark make-up around her eyes.  
And then her clothes- if you could call them that!  
A very, very tight pink tank top had been forced over a bra.  
And Shane wasn't very lighthanded when it came to stuffing.  
And the shorts were so, so short that I'm surprised that she even got into them, she despises short clothing that much.  
And with an assortment of bangles and rings and necklaces, a pink handbag was slung over her arm.  
And a bad choice for someone who had just gotten over a broken ankle- very strappy black heels.  
She growled and stood with her shoulders hunched, her arms folded tightly as they could across her chest, and very, very pissed off.  
Luckily all my get up consisted off was looking like a 'swag fag', as Juliet would call it.  
"I feel like a whore," she grumbled when I got next to her.  
"I think that's the idea," I said helpfully, but then Shane slapped his hands and told people to get their asses movin'.  
Juliet turned to frown at me, but found herself surprised when she realised she was only a few inches shorter than me.  
Maybe heels do have good uses.  
Actually, no, they don't.  
I can't pick on Juliet for being short.  
Not right now, anyway.  
Pretty much this scene Shane is making us do consists of those bitchy whores in High School and the dumbass, perverted swag fags.  
Juliet isn't happy to be playing the bitchy whore, and I'm not particularly pleased to be playing a dumbass, perverted swag fag either...

Dey finished da scene about 2 hours later and went home after Juliet got out of her slut get up. Then they went out to get some coffee with Jack and Ayla. Also let's go back to Julie's POV

"If I ever have to wear something like that ever again," I begin, still fuming about the outfit.  
"You will," Toby reassures me.  
"Then I will force Shane to wear one too."  
"He'd probably like it." Jack says from opposite me.  
Ayla looks down at the mocha she has clasped inbetween her hands awkwardly, and takes a sip.  
We're all seated around a nice table, in a nice coffee shop, not anywhere near the last one.  
I'm glad to see my love for coffee and the shops that sell them has not been tarnished by my last encounter with one.  
Ayla, as I just found out, isn't all that innocent. Fart jokes seem to be her specialty... She's cracked so many period and sex jokes in the past 15 minutes that I can't believe she has such an innocent facade.  
Perfect for Jack, really.  
She has a plum turtleneck pulled over her curvy form, and a pair of dark skinny jeans cover her legs.  
Lastly a pair of black ankle boots protect her feet.  
Jack dressed in a simple black jacket and dark jeans.  
Sneakers, of course, are clad on his feet, Toby, too, is wearing a pair of the cursed footwear.  
All men have the same sense of footwear.  
Unless they're gay.  
Toby has a brown sweater and grey blue jeans on.  
AND SOME FUCKING SNEAKERS CUZ I CAN'T GET A FUCKING BREAK FROM THEM CAN I?  
No. I cannot.  
It's very warm in this coffee shop, very nice against the chill outside.  
Luckily we were filming inside at Shane's.  
I would've freezed my tits off.  
For some reason that sentence I just made insults me.  
Anyway, now that I'm out of that silly, embarassing outfit, I'm dressed in very simple jeans and green long sleeved shirt with a triforce emblazoned proudly on it.  
I have a brown leather jacket folded over my lap.  
"So have fun at Shane's?" Jack asks, his eyes lighting up.  
Toby opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a grumpy, "no." I wanted to add dick bitch to the end, but I think that'd be too immature.  
Jack gives a sickly sweet smile at me.  
I'm sure he already knew the whole skit and costumes and everything.  
Jackass.  
Gettit. JACK... ass. As in, he's an ass, and his name is Jack?  
Yah? Yeah? Yeeahhhh?  
Cool.  
Anyway, as I sit, taking small sips of mocha (I had never tried it before and Ayla had insisted I try it) I decide that this drink is fucking magic. Like seriously bro, who invented mochas?  
I need to give them a special Juliet hug in congratulations.  
It's so... warm in here. For me, warmth equals either pleasantess, or sleepiness, or both.  
This is both.  
I rest my chin on the smooth, strangely cold table and mull over various subjects with myself. At least until Toby realises that I'm probably going to fall asleep any second now.  
Ayla and Jack plan to do something- I dunno, romantic- so Toby excuses us, since I'm too drowsy to do anything but "mmrrh" a good bye and walk to Toby's car.  
The brief, but chill ride back to Toby's -sorry, OUR- house, seems to be enough to keep me awake, but when I get back to the house, it's so warm and toasty, I just pass out on the couch as soon as I stumble in the door. The last thing I hear before I slip into a, thankfully dreamless, sleep, is Toby's chuckle.

* * *

**JULIET AINT NO HOE SHANE WHAT YOU PLAYING AT!?**

**Also, a super duper shuper numer buper thanks to ArchAngel Of Boston (formerly CharlieWarlieWoo) ! She has helped a LOT with this story! For example: Olga's drunk self believing she had hooves. ArchAngel Of Boston came up with that. **

**There's multiple other reasons, but I'm too lazy to put them all down, but because of her help and magical internet friendship and helpness, I've actually plopped her in the story as Juliet's twin, Charlotte! And also to her request, her daughter is called Narina and her husband is PHIL MUTHAFUCKING LESTER.**

**I actually do take in suggestions that you guys offer me, so feel free to PM me with some if you wanna! With adding Charlotte, I am also going to put one of her friends in that showed an enthusiasm! So they'll be in the next chapter probably. **

**Even more epic-er, ArchAngel Of Boston has an Assassins Creed fanfic she's writing called Edens alive which I AM IN, as the wonderful Zoe! 3 3 3**

**So read that too, because it's awesome.**

**NOW, GO. QUICKLY!**

**Anyway review and fave and follow and whatevs.**


	21. Family and Sexy Times

**Yay ArchAngel Of Boston, READ NOW AND BE PLEASANTLY DELIGHTED.**

**Also yay new chappy hurrah!**

* * *

"Juliet!" Charlotte exclaims, wrapping her arms around me.  
I struggle against her tight embrace, but, alas, she's a lot taller than me. Another, smaller pair of arms appear around me, and then are gone again. She's probably going to harass Toby now...  
Yup.  
Hit it right on the spot.  
"Tobuscus!" Narina squeals, tugging on his wrist.  
I mouth, "sorry" to him, and he gives a half grimace, half smile back at me.  
I glance at Charlotte- signalling, "stop her!" but Charlotte just smiles and shakes her head, her pin straight hair tossing over her slim, purple clothed shoulder.  
I sigh, and follow her from the cream coloured hallways, into a slightly darker themed lounge room.  
Phil, my brother-in-law, is lounging on the couch, well, more... laying on it, his straight black hair messed over the over stuffed, dusty magenta colour. A laptop is propped up in his lap, and I see Tumblr, though Twitter and YouTube are open in different tabs.  
I have no idea where Narina's taken Toby, but I figure I can live a few minutes without his presence.  
Charlotte takes one glance at her comfortable, indifferent husband and turns to the kitchen.  
Damn I hope she's got jelly.  
She gestures to the kitchen stool set up against the bench; I slide onto it as she crosses to sit across from me. "Oh, sorry about the mess," she says, gesturing around herself. Seems tidy to me. "My friend Amy was here earlier- heh." she shrugs with a lighthearted grin. And then her face turns serious. "So," she says. "Where have you been? I went to visit you a week ago, but when I knocked there was no answer. I guessed you were out, but you left your door unlocked and your place looked pretty messed up. And I don't think you've been picking up drunk hot guys recently." she paused awkwardly and continued. " There were clothes and books and videogame and CD covers everywhere," Charlotte grimaces.

"Well," I pause. Should I edit the story, or give it straight to her? I'm not one for pointlessly beating around the bush to hand it nicely, so I go right to, "This guy stole my keys and tried to kidnap me."  
"What?!" Charlotte screeches, her palms slamming down on the counter and standing up immediately, looking thoroughly alarmed.  
Phil's voice drifts from the next room: "Honey? You alright?"  
He still has his england-y accent, even though he's been living in LA for some time now.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," says Charlotte pointedly.  
She sits down again, and impatiently shifts her hair with a free hand to cover her other shoulder.  
"So, care to explain that better?"  
Not really, I think, but I do anyway.  
"I was just chilling around town," she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Gosh, Juliet, outside? Why! What a rare occurence! Simply astonishing! Are you sure it truly happened?  
YES.  
"And there was this huge crowd. I got tripped over a lot. I'm guessing one of the people I tripped over was the kidnapper," I shrug, "and when I got back to my apartment, I realised that I didn't have my keys. Then I turned around, and then this guy was standing there. He gave me a very rape-y smile," Charlotte tutted under her breath, "child in this house!" but I ignored her. "So I started running down these stairs and he followed. I got outside alright, but he did, too. He's real fit- muscles bulging out everywhere. Kind of weird, really. And you know me- the most exercise I do is walking to the shops! He caught up very quickly, and he started hitting and kicking me and stuff. It really hurt," I recall. Charlotte pulls a face, 'don't need to know that', kind of face, but, again, I ignore her. "But I refused to be taken like all of those other girls, and he got tired after a while. He just stomped on my ankle, told me he'd steal from my apartment, and left me there." I stop talking, remembering that awful experience. One that I hope to never go through again. Ever. The nightmares are enough, thanks.  
"What happened after that?" Charlotte asks, when the pause becomes too long for her liking.  
"Oh. Well, I started calling for help- trying to, anyway, my throat hurt like a bitch," Charlotte again tutted about the 9 year old daughter of hers "and Toby heard me. So he found me, and he helped me get out of the alley and onto the edge of the street." Charlotte has a weird look on her face: I decipher it correctly with my answer of, "Yeah, I know, not a very romantic introduction, was it?" she shakes her head mutely, upper lip curled into a grimace still.  
"Anyway, he called Jack and then Jack drove Toby and I back to Toby's, and I passed out on the couch. I've been too freaked out to try and go back to my apartment since then. So, all in all, I've been at Toby's for the past few months." I conclude, and Charlotte gives a strange nod.  
She opens her mouth to speak, but then Narina bursts into the kitchen, her dandelion yellow socks slipping over the polished tiles.  
"Hey, sweetie," says Charlotte. Narina regains her balance, her dark hair spilling over her face, and then looks up and grins.  
"I got to meet Tobuscus." she states, pleased. She bounds up to her mother and boosts into the seat beside her, the delighted expression still glazed over her features.  
"Where is Toby?" I ask. I turn my head to regard the door leading to the rest of the house.  
"Talking to daddy," says Narina, and I slip off of my seat and stalk to the lounge room.  
They don't notice me as I slip into the room. They're talking about something- YouTube? Fanfiction? I don't really care.  
So I sink into a sitting position behind the back of the couch and settle into the carpet, not even listening to their talk, more to their voices.  
Their voices are very different, though both are speaking in earnest.  
I curl my fingers into the fluffy carpet and focus on kneading the fluffy material that is used for feet to step on.  
I'm not sure how long I stay seated on the floor, but eventually Toby realises I'm chillin' there.  
"Hey, Juliet," he says, grinning over the side of the couch. Phil goes back to internetting. The only lovin' he can stand is him and Charlotte, apparently. Pfft. I KNOW THEY'VE DONE THE DEED. Wait that's weird.  
"Hey, Toby," I say, grinning back up at him, my head tilted backwards. "What time is it?" I ask. I don't have a watch, and I'm too lazy to prize my phone out of my pocket right at this moment.  
"Ah, it's... 3:00 PM." says Toby, his fingers curled around his own phone.  
"Should we get going then?"  
Phil, absorbed in the world of Tumblr, ignores us.  
Toby nods thoughtfully, "yeah, I guess so."  
And I'm on my feet.  
"See ya Charlotte! Bye Phil," and since Narina is in her room, internetting, I presume, I holler, "SEE YA NARINA!"  
"Bye!" calls back a small voice.  
Charlotte says loudly, "whatever," from in the kitchen (holy shit I smell lasagna) and Phil says, "Goodbye!"  
So we leave.  
"Oh sheesh it's cold," I complain, as we step outside of Charlotte's tidy house, onto the pale stepping stones lining the way to her front door, and Toby doesn't disagree.  
"It'll be summer soon," he says.  
I mean, sure, there are no clouds hovering in the skies, and it's mostly just the chilling wind, but it's freezing!  
* * * THEY DRIVE BACK TO THEIR OWN HOUSE BECAUSE THEY HAVE ONE THEY'RE NOT HOBOS WITH GOLDEN BOXES (...Indeed...) * * *  
"So, what're we going to do now?" I ask. Toby flops onto the couch- Gryphon barks and nimbly jumps off of it, and settles in his cushion thing.  
I sink down onto the couch beside my boyfriend (omfg I can actually use that word for him now omg yey) and lean my head against his shoulder.  
He looks down at me with a wry smile.  
"I dunno," he would shrug, but then that'd dislodge my head, and we don't want that, do we?  
"We could play minecraft, or something scary," I suggest, though that's not really on my mind right now.  
"Yeah, we could do that," says Toby, "or we could do this..." and he cups his hand around my cheek, leans down, and kisses me gently.  
Yeah, that's what I was thinking.  
I wrap my arms up around his neck while I kiss him back and just go with the flow.  
One of his hands finds the small of my back, and it settles there to support me as we move against each other.  
Intense.  
If I could see the future, I'd probably have tried to slow this down.  
But I can't, and so Toby picks me up and we start going in the general direction of our bedroom, our lips never breaking contact, my arms still around his neck, his hands at my waist/hips.  
Can I please put in here, that even though I'm 27 (turning 28 soon!) I'm a virgin? (shocker right?) And we're going to the BEDROOM?  
WHERE THERE'S A BED?!  
AND SEXY TIMES USUALLY HAPPEN ON A BED?!  
Lemme just say... Oh god, I hope Toby's got a condom.  
* * * le sexy times have passed and stuff because I'm not here to write erotica for you guys. Let's just's get that out of the way. OK. We're good. Actually, some of you probably wanna kill me for not writing detailed sexy times. But... I'M HERE FOR THE LOVE, EMOTIONAL, NOT PHYSICAL LOVE, MAN! And also I'd have to change the rating to M if I did that. And I'm too lazy to go around changing things. * * *  
Toby's POV  
Okay, we've been dating for a while now.  
And I thought the time was ripe to speed things up.  
And Juliet didn't protest, did she? Actually, I don't think she could've if she wanted to, because her mouth was busy, y'know, NOT TALKING, more kissing, but that's beside the point.  
No, she did not protest. So I took her to the bedroom and stuff happened, because it's a bedroom, and we were making out.  
That's fine. I was expecting a lot of things, but I was NOT expecting her to be a virgin.  
That kind of surprised me when she paused to say that, and made me promise to be gentle.  
But all in all, I'm just going to say... We both seemed pretty satisfied when we untangled from each other and went elsewhere. Juliet seemed a bit... wtf omg wat for a few hours, and I rightly guessed that there would be more sex jokes/innuendoes in her videos, but I'm sure her subscribers would eat that right up without a second thought.  
I'm not really sure how to continue with this, but... I think I'm in love with Juliet. Before it was serious, LIKE LIKE LOTS LOTS.  
But I think I love her. And that's good, isn't it?  
Also I found out that she really likes neck kisses too, which is nice.  
Okay. I'm out. Literally. I'm going to sleep now. Okay.  
Juliet's POV  
Toby's sleeping in the other room. I'm leaning my head against the keyboard.  
Did I seriously just ... do stuff... with Toby?  
I know I'm usually a pumped up, confident-ish person, but I guess I never factored sex into that.  
So apparently I'm really, really shy and blushy in bed.  
But I don't think my subbies can tell that!  
MWAHAHAH  
So I decide to play Witch's House (I keep hearing Toby yelping and making weird noises when he's playing it, and it sounds scary!).  
I start up the webcam, which Toby taught me how to do, and click the tab I've already set up with Witch's House.  
"Oh, hey, this game makes Toby shriek like a girl who realises that she's bleeding somewhere strange, so I decided to play it, to see if my shrieks rival Toby's. LET'S DO THIS."  
I start to play the game and am not disappointed.  
I'm so caught up in it I play for a nice 27 minutes.  
It's a truly amazing game, I can safely say.  
And I've named the black cat Sebastian.  
Awww yissss  
"Yo," I say, putting Sebastian's voice into use. I've made him a sassy gay cat who wants to be more gangsta.  
"Yeah, what's up, Sebastian?" I ask, normal voice.  
I make the character walk away to a different room.  
"FINE, JUST WALK AWAY FROM ME!" I make Sebastian wail.  
After something involving bear limbs, I go back to Sebastian.  
"Hey Sebby- OH SHIT BEAR RUN FUCKER RUUUNNNN!" I bellow.  
I make it safely away from the bear.  
Then, after a pause, "... Oh fuck he ate Sebastian."  
SEBASTIANNN! ;_;  
I say, obviously grieving, "Sebastian will be missed... as will I until I upload again. HAHAHHAHAHAHAhA SEE YA SUCKERS!"  
Done.  
Good.  
I am now completely at ease and sated and satisfied and content.  
Apart from the tracker in my arm (the surgery is in a week and a half), and the disturbingly realistic nightmares that never let me rest, I'm very happy. So I settle down comfortably into the chair and watch some YouTube videos myself.  
I need to get more in touch with the YouTube world, I think, and Tumblr and all the other good stuffs, and fandoms and the like.  
I run one hand through my crazy curls and slump over the desk.  
After quite a few videos, I'm actually getting really tired. It's only 5:00, though, so I'll set up an alarm for 8:00, because Sean Klitzner and Shane Dawson are coming around at 9:30, just to chill with Toby and stuff.  
Yeah.  
I trudge to the bed and flop under the covers, curling up to Toby's still sleeping form. Even in his sleep, his arms tighten around me when I nudge into them.  
Smiling faintly, I fall asleep with my head on his chest.

* * *

**Haahahahahaha Toby and Juliet had sex.**

**I don't know why I find that so funny.**

**AND Kayla- hueheuehueheuh. Golden boxes... Indeed...**

**Also congrats Amy and Charlie! *applauds wildly***

**ANYWAY FOLLOW AND FAVOURITE AND REVIEW PLEASE THANK YOU COME AGAIN.**


	22. UGH

**YAY NEW CHAPTER ENJOY GUISE.**

* * *

I wait patiently, my hands clasped together in my lap.  
"Do I have to do this?" I ask, turning my head the smallest inch to look at Toby. His carefully messed hair gets further messed by a hand running through it.  
"Of course you do," he says, shaking his head as if such an idea of NOT is absoloutely ridiculous. "Oh, look, they're here!" Toby grins.  
He pulls back the curtains the tiniest bit- "Shane's coming in first," he says. "Perfect."  
I give a small little groan and tug the creepy mask over my face, the band that holds it in place snapping over the back of my head.  
Toby does the same. I can barely see him through the tan material that covers my face now.  
But I can, the littlest bit, and so I can see the same mask on his face.  
Smiley's.  
For those who don't know, Smiley is a movie in which stars Shane Dawson. Michael Gallagher, the director, is good friends with Shane too.  
So, Toby and I decided, what better way to courteously and gracious greet guests?  
With a creepy mask that has a cut out, and stitched up smiley face.  
Ugh.  
But either way, I hate it. The way he's cut that crude face out. Reminds me of those nightmares, that I keep having. They haven't gotten any better, by the way.  
A loud tapping reverbrates through the door- That'd be Shane.  
Good. I think the time is nigh for payback. If you don't know why I want payback, you may want to go back a chapter or two.  
Yeah. REMEMBER THAT? BECAUSE I CERTAINLY AM NOT FORGETTING IT ANY TIME SOON!  
I stand to the left of Toby as he opens the door- a cold air whisks in, and Shane's gives a short shriek until he realises, oh, it's just Toby and his bitch (me! Yay! I'm someone's bitch!).  
"Ugh," he moans (I second that), "Sean, Smiley's in here. Two of them." And now his tone drastically changes as he says the next three words. "They're so sexyyy."  
"Oh, no!" cries Sean, but he gives a grin when he steps into the doorway.  
The glow from inside the house gives a spooky lighting effect on his face.  
Gosh, everything is spooky/creepy/scary to me now, isn't it?  
Apart from like, horror video games. I'm fine with THOSE.  
Ugh.  
I don't know why I'm in a grump. Am I on my period? No, I don't think so.  
PMS? Probably.  
Ugh.  
Just the time for Aunt Flow to announce that she's coming soon.  
UGH.  
"So," says Shane, "I want Juliet's opinion of Smiley."  
"I haven't seen it,"  
"Neither," Sean shrugs, and drops down onto the couch.  
"You haven't, Juliet?" Shane asks, evidently surprised.  
"No," I say, doubtful. Should I have? I know Toby plays a minor role in it, as does Shane, and Michael is the director, so I guess I ought to have by now...  
"Good," Shane says. "Sean hasn't either, so I want your opinion- BOTH of your opinions- on it! My acting, the directing, everything! And I'll tell Michael your feedback right away," after seeing our addled expressions, Shane adds, "he's thinking of making a sequel." (A/N: I don't know if TotallySketch actually IS thinking of making one, as I'm just using this in the story, but eh, if he isn't all well, if he his HOLY SHIT YAY OMFG! But I do not think he is. Oh well.)  
"Oh!" I say. "Alright."  
"Here," says Shane, producing a copy of Smiley out of a large jacket pocket.  
As the two other men make their way to the couch, I give the door a push with the tips of my fingers, and it meets the doorway with a nice sound of safety.  
Now that it's all nice and no cold air is blowing inside, I plop myself down behind Gryphon, who is nestled comfortably in his black seat of doom.  
I absentmindedly stroke his fur, trailing my fingers down his coat.  
Then I wonder if my period's hit yet, and I remove myself from the room hastily, with no excuse or anything. About half way to the bathroom, suddenly, I have to clamp a shaking hand onto the wall to steady myself from tripping over my own self.  
What the hell is wrong with me?  
I feel like shit. Not really physically, like aaahhhh bones, or aaahhh muscles, but I can feel a massive headache creeping up on me. Of course, I know that of course I'll get headaches- you don't get smashed in the head and bounce cheerfully away with no side-effects or anything- but I didn't expect this sudden assault.  
I hiss in between my clenched teeth, and then, though the headache continues to snake its way to my brain, my body stops shaking and I can continue move along as if I'm fine, normal, even. What the hell just happened?  
I close the bathroom door with a little snick sound as I poke the button that makes the door lock.  
I don't want any intruders! I turn to face the bathroom- a nice, pale tiled sanitary room with a bath, and a shower in the furthest corner; and a toilet, too, of course.  
But I turn to the mirror, set over the wide, shallow basin and the clutter of Toby's stuff, and my stuff, that sit on the bench.  
I check myself out (physically) and am aghast to find that, though I have no period(yet), the little scar with the tracking chip in it is bleeding.  
Bleeding!  
I fumble around for a towel of some sorts, and settle on a little tan face towel thing, knocking over quite a few things during the process, which I am not quiet about.  
"Juliet? You ok?" calls Toby's voice.  
"Fine!" I call back, though my voice sounds strained, a bit frightened.  
Aparrently Toby agrees, and I hear him telling Sean and Shane, "I'm going to check on her," and then, the sound of footsteps padding along carpet, and then, a few moments later, a voice wavering in from the other side of the door.  
"Juliet? Are you sure you're fine?" Toby asks. Since one of my hands is resting on the door, I can feel the tiny protest of wood as Toby leans against it.  
"No," I say miserably.  
There's no words spoken now. Maybe he's wondering if I'm on my period?  
"It's not my time of the month," I say.  
"Oh! OK." says Toby. So that WAS it? HE DIDN'T WANT TO VOICE ASKING IF MY LADY JUNK WAS BLEEDING?  
"Then what was it?"  
"The stupid cut," I mutter, just loud enough so that Toby can hear.  
"Oh." he sounds taken aback. "What about it?"  
"It's bleeding."  
"What?! Why?!" Toby asks, panic obvious in his voice.  
"Don't be so loud," I reprimand.  
"OK." he says. Then he whispers, "what? Why?"  
"I don't know. I was walking along, then suddenly I started feeling like absoloute crap. I started shaking all over and I couldn't stand up right. And now I've got the worst headache coming my way," I moan, and Toby asks if I want some painkillers.  
After I tell him that of COURSE I want some, he leaves momentarily to get them.  
I unlock the door and peer out into the hallway.  
Ugh.  
The hallway spins around, in my eyes, at least.  
I blink hard.  
Ugh.  
I shuffle back into the bathroom and drop onto the floor, my legs splayed out infront of me.  
UGH.  
What the hell is wrong with me?

LUCINDA'S POV  
He has just pressed the little button. The one that will send all of the tiny, less than microsofic trackers into her bloodstream. Her, I think, the Juliet.  
He has been trying to get her for a while now. He has even gotten a ragdoll to cut into her likeness.  
I turn my head barely to the side to consider the ragdoll.  
She has short black hair, murky grey eyes. Her grey lips are very full. She must've been very pretty.  
"Luce," says a husky whisper. I barely turn my head to regard her.  
She has long ago forgotten her name; she has been here longer than I, and her scars will never disappear, they've been carved in so deep and so many times. Unlike mine, which will fade to pinched, pink lines, if this stops in the year.  
"You scars are going away," she continues. "He's going to put them back. With the snippy-snippies,"  
Snippy-snippies are what she calls scissors. Along with her name, her mind has gone missing. She is insane.  
"When?" I ask. My voice is sharp. Sharper than it was before... Before this happened to me. I remember it with crystal clarity.  
So sharp. So defined. So real. So awfully, awfully real.  
I had just been trying to find my cat. He'd ran outside in the day, and it was drawing into a chilly night, so I'd gone out to fetch him.  
He wasn't in any of his usual hiding places. I was confused. Where was he?  
When I finally did find him, he was leaning against a tall fence, his back arched, his fur sticking up in all directions. He'd hissed at me when I bent to collect him up, and I hadn't known why.  
But then a brick was smashed down on the side of my head, and my cat bolted off, a streak of brown and orange fur. Everything went red then, and I remember waking up in a dark, confined area. I couldn't evens see my hands infront of my face. They were there for protection. I got tossed around in there a lot- I was in the boot of a car. The road was bumpy, the corners sharp.  
I got a blood nose from that painful journey, before I blacked out again. Then I woke again when the boot opened and the bright light from his outdoor security light flashed into my eyes.  
I'd then been dragged to the barn- thrashing and screaming the whole way down the rough gravel path.  
I'd been frozen with horror when I saw the inside of the barn, and thus I hadn't been able to stop him.  
The only thing that moved from my body were the tears trickling down my cheeks.  
But now I'm here.  
Maybe forever.  
After all, what is the point in escaping?  
The trackers... he's put them in all of us.  
But Juliet is the only one who's he tried out with this new tracker he's made. The one that will send smaller, absoloutely tiny trackers that dissolve in blood after a week. Of course, he's not planning on her not being here for longer than that. He is smart. But he's more brawn than brain, so he only knows how to plan action, and fiddle with things and hope for the best.  
She, the insane woman, doesn't even answer my question. She just drifts away as the thick hand clamps down on my forearm.  
I don't even struggle as he drags me to the corner where I got the scars.  
"Sit," he orders, and my legs collapse under me. Then he carefully collects a small knife and squats infront of me.  
"I'll just fix up your face, I'll do the rest later," he says, and the cold knife is pressed against the skin exactly on my jaw line.  
I hiss in, my mouth barely moving, as the stinging, sharp pain slices against my jaw.  
"Shh," he whispers. "Shh."

"Sorry about that," I say, weakly nodding in apology to Shane and Sean.  
"That's fine," says Sean.  
"Now sit yo bitch ass down and watch!" says Shane, in what is presumably S-Deezy's voice.  
FUCK NO.  
I mean, why, of course!  
I sit down beside Toby, leaning my head on his shoulder. His arm settles around my shoulders, and I don't think it's just solely for the intimacy. It's a non-verbal way of telling if I feel awful again.  
Ugh.  
Men.  
UGH.  
The movie starts off, and I make a comment about how well the shots are, even so early in the film.  
And further in the movie, damn, I'm getting creeped out. SO MANY JUMPSCARES!  
It's excellent!  
However, what I just find plain freaky, is the way Smiley kills.  
All the cuts everywhere.  
He just...  
I shudder, and Toby squeeze his arm around my shoulders, all like, I'm here if you need me. That's reassuring.  
I glance up and my eyes meet with his hazel ones for the briefest of moments.  
He looks at me, confused. I just stare blankly back until I hear something interesting on screen and my head turns back to the TV, my attention completely on the figures freaking out.  
They're not the only ones who are freaking out.  
* * * MANY HOURS LATTEERR ***  
I stare at Juliet's sleeping face, transfixed. Her body is still, not a single twitch or movement. As is most of her face- but under her eyelids, I can see her eyes whizzing around.  
It's like she's having an internal battle. Maybe she has nightmares? Really bad ones, I think, as the corner of her mouth pulls down in a small grimace.  
Then her eyelashes flutter, I can see her purple irises, and she's awake.  
"Hey," I say, not sure if I should voice my concerns over her dream-state.  
She looks at me- for a second, her pupils shrink in the light, but then the glare of light doesn't bother her eyes anymore, and she takes in my face.  
"Hey," she says. I can hear the tiniest tremor in her voice- like she's just been running away from a hungry lion, but doesn't want anyone to know that she stole a lion from the zoo in the dead of the night.  
So I take from that that she's having nightmares, but doesn't want me to feel concerned over it.  
Bad luck.  
I'm way concerned.  
"Are you having nightmares?" I ask, as she props herself up on an elbow so we're more level.  
She looks very uncertain. She looks away for a minute then says, "Yeah."  
"What're they about? Maybe I can help," I say, and she looks back at me and gives a small smile.  
"I dunno, they're pretty awful."  
I sit up fully now, gesture lightly with my hand.  
"Tell me."  
Juliet sighs, and sits up too. It's a chill morning, so I don't blame her when she tugs the blankets up to cover her bare torso.  
*sighs because liked the view*  
*woah maybe Toby really is just a perv*  
*Whatever let's go back to the actual story, yeah?*  
"Well, they're all in this one place," Julie says, brushing away a lock of her pale hair with a small hand. "And they're mostly all the same, but they just get worse."  
She sees my expression, and explains, "Blood. There's more blood and it just seems more and more hopeless."  
"I'm listenin'," I tell her, and she gives a short, uneasy nod and continues.  
"It's all in this barn, this one big barn. I think in the dreams it's summer, but it's not day. Out the tall window on the weird loft place it's just inky blackness, but it's so, so warm. The first dream wasn't all that bad- just a bit weird, compared to how they are now. There was blood everywhere, and there was this creepy corner with a bunch of knives and scissors and stuff. I went over there, and then there was blood... everywhere. Dripping off stuff, the hay was just getting filled with it. Also I got stabbed like a crap ton in that dream. The knife's so cold..." That sounds awful. I move as if to embrace her, but she's not done talking.  
"At first I didn't know who it was, the one cutting me. But after a few dreams, I saw his face. Y'know, the kidnapper bad guy. And there was always a bit more blood, a bit more pain. Also, very slowly, these other women started just started popping up. One of them stabbed me instead of the guy in one of the dreams. They're not very well dressed. Mostly just strips of fabric tied around what little clothes they already have. And it got really awful when the bodies started happening, the dead bodies impaled on the walls." This just sounds horrible. How does Juliet not wake up screaming every night? I stare at her, in concern. She frowns back, but not in anger. Just discomfort, unease. I lay my hand over her free one, and she looks down at it, then keeps on with her morbid story.  
"And also, the scars. They have all these scars cut into their bodies. The dead ones and the living ones. Mostly, they seem to follow the shape of their faces and bodies. But there's this one body that keeps bothering me, what seems to be the... newest... one. It's this girl, she looks really, really young. Like she's in college or something. Like she's maybe 18? Anyway, she's stuck on the walls, and it just looks to me like the pattern cut into her is supposed to be for me. Like I see cut into her my body shape, my face shape. And that was horrible. I felt so guilty... No, I feel guilty, not felt. And it's just gotten worse with each night." I grimace- I feel so bad for her.  
Then, unexpectedly, she says, "I wonder if I have my period yet," and off she goes, bounding out of the bed and away.  
What's with all this talk of blood?  
That was an awful joke.  
I'm awful.  
Ugh.  
And then she comes up with an awful joke too.  
"It feels good to have that off my chest," Juliet calls from down the hall. She's still on the move- I can hear her voice moving from one spot to another with each step she takes. "Not that I need anything else off my chest, seriously, I think I need more on it... Ugh."  
Wow, great joke to tell your boyfriend after you just told him your creepy nightmares.  
Whatever, I already knew she wasn't all that bountiful in that area anyway.  
I feel weirded out, so I get myself out of bed and work on making something for breakfast.  
"Do you want bacon?" I call out. My voice still sounds strung with sleep.  
"I WANT BACON!" Juliet yells back. Her victory is clear in her voice.  
She really likes bacon. And she's not clean, or neat, or quiet about stuffing it down her throat, either.  
But I don't really care.

* * *

**I wonder if there is fanart of this? There ARE 20 of you awesome followers! Is there? I hope there is. I saw two great fanarts for a different fanfiction, they looked great. SO ALL IN ALL, feel free to do fanart of this and if you find any, TELL ME PLZ I AM DESPERATE I mean.. haha... ha... UGH. **


	23. Kidnap

**So welcome to Chapter 23: Kidnap. Based on the Chapter Title, can you guess what's gonna happen in this chapter? If you answered, Juliet becomes a Ninja Ice-Cream Princess, YOU WIN!**

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Pain. Misery. Though I don't know it yet, that's what's headed for me.  
But, as of yet I am blissfully ignorant, and I dance around in a small, happy little circle.  
I've just finished the Last of Us, and by golly, I'm so gosh darned pleased that 400 days (if that IS what it's called- I'm so excited, I've forgotten!) is out now!  
And also, today is the day this tracker chip gets out!  
But first I have many things to do today.  
So I move stealthily along to the Gaming Den.  
"SHH!" I hiss loudly after I've broken in and entered, and slunk down into a low crouch by the desk. Toby, who's playing 400 Days, jumps up in his seat. and curses under his breath. He hadn't notice me. Because... I am a ninja ice cream princess.  
"You scared the shoop outta me!" he exclaims, turning to me.  
I give him a cheeky grin.  
"Good."  
I pounce into the seat beside his, for dominance over the other computer. After settling down comfortable, and looking over at Toby's screen (oh noes Eddie!), I poke the keyboard. The key I touch makes a little noise and the previously black screen lights up.  
After tampering around on the computer, I upload my 6th Episode of Last Of Us.  
I finished the whole game in a mere 4 days, and I want MMOOOARRRR!  
But I'm pacing myself patiently, I think, as I bounce around in excitement. After finding nothing that holds my interest long enough, I just start spinning the swivel chair around the Gaming Room.  
It's not distracting Toby, so it seems pretty pointless to me, but then again, his subscribers can see me whizzing about (and falling out of the chair). After I stumble back up to my feet and plonk back down on the seat, I start spinning around on it again.  
With my eyes afixed onto the ceiling, and my ears full of my sounds of, "Wheeeeeee!", I don't notice when Toby stops the webcam and the game.  
I don't hear the quick little squeak as the swivel chair he's on turns and as the weight on it lifts and leaves, and I only realise that he's not recording when he's looming over me, and instead of ceiling I see handsome face.  
I offer up a smile, and in return, get a warm pair of lips pressed against my neck as I wrap my arms around his neck and his arms go around my waist.  
I enjoy the sensation for a minute, then ask, "What time is it?"  
Toby's mouth leaves my neck. His eyebrows lift in surprise, but he checks the time.  
"An hour 'til your surgery," he says. "Might want to take a shower?" he suggests.  
"Good idea," I say, bursting up out of my chair. Halfway to the door, I turn and meet Toby's hazel eyes with my own strange purple ones. "Wanna join me?" I ask with a coy smile.  
Again, surprise shows on his features. "Sure," he says, a smile pulling at his own perfect lips.  
I tug at his fingers and pull him along.  
"C'mon," I say.  
*** TIME LAPSE TO AFTER SEXY SHOWER TIMES NOW WE SHALL MAGICALLY TELEPORT TO THE CAR IN FUTURE TIMES. WAIT DOES THIS MEAN I'M A COCK BLOCKER? Or... vagina blocker? MWEH!?***  
"So you're fine with that?" asks Toby. His hands are loose on the steering wheel. I smile at him. I'm full of smiles today. I'm sure I'm going to run out soon.  
"Yeah," I say. "I'll be fine."  
"Hm. If you say so."  
The car pulls into a neat stop.  
Toby reaches over to hug me, and I place my lips over his in a quick, reassuring kiss.  
And when he pulls away, I swear I hear him mumble, "Iloveyou". Must be my imagination, right?  
I'm certain that I just imagined it up, so I say nothing to pursue what I presume to be made up words.  
"I'll see you later, okay?" I say, and he nods.  
"So, you're fine with walking back home?"  
I roll my eyes. He's concerned, but I feel so... good. How is he not so affected by my happy mood?  
"Well, you'll be filming anyway. Not like you can pick me up, Toby." I give him another quick kiss, but on his cheek.  
He kisses my cheek too, and I shove the car door open and am out into the fresh air. It's a good day. Seems like nothing bad can happen today!  
"See you later," says Toby.  
"See you later too," I reply, a smile quirking my lips up again.  
Smiling again. Must be the relief of this tracker leaving my body for good.  
Just before he drives off, Toby says, "Be careful, Julie..." then he smiles again and off he goes.  
I watch the car roll away and then march up to the hospital doors, which slide open as I step forward.  
After they close behind me with a 'clunk' sound, I bounce along to the Walrus Doctor's office.

"Do you mind if I call you Doctor Walrus?" I ask, an immensely serious expression on my face, interrupting whatever he was about to say.. My arms are folded onto the table.  
Dr. Walrus looks at me in surprise; "Why?"  
"Your mustache reminds me of walruses," I say, "and walruses are cool."  
Dr. Walrus gives a short nod. "Alright then. So, I was saying, we're going to cut along your upper arm here," he says, showing me a diagram, "so it'll be easier to remove the chip."  
I give a sharp nod. "Okay. So do I get knocked out or some drugs or what."  
"We will be giving you a needle that will numb the area where we'll be operating. It'll make you feel a bit funny, but that's nothing to worry about."  
No, needles are a LOT to worry about! I think, but I nod again, but a bit more cautious.  
"Right. Well, if you'll come this way, we will inject the needle now."  
I hiss in between my teeth- I fucking HATE needles.  
But I shove the chair back and follow Dr. Walrus through the door way, closing the metal door behind me.  
He gestures with a pudgy hand to a thin blue mattress placed over a tall bed thing.  
I hop up onto it and sit somewhat suspiciously, crossing my ankles over as I wait.  
He sifts through a little box, and then he waddles across the room with a syringe and a little phial of a green-hued liquid.  
I eye off the syringe warily as Dr. Walrus (I've completely forgotten his actual name) fills it with the green-ish liquid.  
Then he places the little glass bottle down with a gentle 'clink' and comes over to me.  
I hope you all remember that point where this heavily jawed nurse man tried to insert a needle into my skin.  
It involved a whole lot of swearing, kicking, punching, and slapping. I escaped it, but there was no escaping this needle.  
I grimace as the needle pokes into my upper arm, where the I'll be cut open. Ugh. The words 'cut open' just creep me out. Must be those nightmares. They haven't stopped. But yesterday it was really weird. I won't go into details.  
A low hiss comes out of my mouth as Dr. Walrus presses down on the top of the syringe, injecting the weird fluid into my arm.  
"That'll do it," he says, pulling the needle out.  
I glare down at my upper arm. Already, a strange numb feeling is spreading over it.  
I make a weird noise and say, "so what happens now?"  
Dr. Walrus carefully puts the phial back and disposes the syringe.  
"If you will follow me, the operation will start soon."

I'm out. Oh god, surgery. I just rambled on about everything since I didn't have to be knocked out to be operated on.  
Either way, I am certainly not going into a hospital anytime soon.  
Since I've escaped the hospital, I've decided to go along for a walk before returning home. So I'm just walking down a path.  
There's a large park nearby, with a lake that has a water fountain shooting out of it, spraying ducks that wade past it, so naturually, since it's such a sunny, fresh day, kids and their parents and friends are all down there.  
Though some of the kids are cute, I don't like being around too-large groups of people, so I start moving away quicker, like I did... before.  
And then I'm at my apartment... like before.  
Why the hell am I here? I wonder. My apartment. I should... go up and see if... MY VIDEOGAMES! Before I know it, I'm flying down the same alley I collapsed in, rushing up the stairs I fled down, and my fingers are closing around the cold doorknob.  
Is it locked? The door swings open. No. It isn't. I frown.  
I enter my apartment, stepping on the familiar blotchy beige carpet. Oh god. It's a mess.  
There are things thrown everywhere, broken things all over the place, and... my computer! I give a small shriek as I see it, the glass screen smashed inwards and a giant dent in the side of it. The keyboard's keys are scattered around it, and the monitor isn't faring any better.  
My heart pounding a million beats a second, I slink into the room I kept my videogames in.  
Some of them are fine. But then again, a lot of them have the disks tossed out of the cases, scratched and crushed into the carpet, or just bent cases, snapping the disk inside it.  
I collect all of the unharmed videogames I can find- roughly 25- and stuff them in a bag that seems not ruined.  
This is... awful. I go into the kitchen, and all of the cutlery is scattered across the floor, the bowls and plates smashed against the floor, sink, walls... everywhere.  
Why on earth would anyone do this... Why would HE do this?  
As I lean against the counter, a broken glass cutting into my hands, I hear the slightest noise. Quite. Like a foot, silently padding across the floor...  
I whirl around, but it's too late.  
A heavy red brick smashes into my head, and everything goes red, and I lose balance, but I swing my fist towards his face. It knocks him in the jaw, but I hurt my knuckles, and land on my knees.  
Quick... I need something to hurt him with! I turn back in forth and he stumbles backwards. I stagger up to my feet, and grab a white plate on the edge of the sink.  
A whole plate? Whatever, the other ones are broken anyway!  
I snatch it up, and whack it over his face, which is suddenly very close. Something else... No, I need to escape! Oh god, what if he actually gets me this time?!

* * *  
CHARLOTTE'S POV  
"Where's dad?" Narina asks, attempting to tie up her hair in a high ponytail. It's shockingly off-centred, so I shoo her hands away and do it for her.  
"Filming a video for his channel," I tell her, brushing her dark hair with my fingers, gathering it up. "Don't bother him."  
"OK. I was just wondering." Narina says, her hands going up to check out the ponytail. Seeming satisfied, she turns to smile at me, but then my phone's ringtone starts blasting off, and we both jump.  
I prise it out of my pocket and see it's from Juliet. My silly, swearing, funny, now internet famous twin.  
"Hey Juliet," I say, holding it to my ear.  
"Err, sorry. This is Toby. I had to use Juliet's phone." says my twin's also internet famous boyfriend through the phone.  
"Oh. Okay. Why do you need to talk to me? Or do you want to talk to Phil?" I ask, and I'm about to tell him Phil's busy, when he says, "No, I need you to come with me to Juliet's old apartment."  
I hear a wail on the other side of the phone- it sounds like a baby.  
"Where are you?" I ask curiously.  
"Hospital, but I don't know how to get to Juliet's apartment. I mean, I do, but I don't know what floor or room number she was or whatev-"  
"Yes, I'll take you. Why do you need to go there? Can't Juliet take you?"  
"Good, I'll get you and then we'll go to her apartment. Expect me in 2 minutes." he says, then hangs up. I hold the phone to my ear, shocked. What the hell? I mean...  
Wow, he's sure vague. Why can't he just get Julie to take him? Oh. She must not want to go there again. I guess that makes sense. But surely she'd want to try and collect her videogames? The ones that aren't broken, anyway, I think, grimly remembering when I'd went visited that room.  
Phil comes out of our bedroom- he's just finished filming.  
"Hey, honey, I have to go somewhere in a minute." I say, going up to him for a hug.  
"Oh. Where?" he asks, looking at me with his brilliant blue eyes, pulling me into a hug.  
"Juliet's apartment. Toby called me using her phone and asked me to go with him. He was very vague about it," I say, frowning a little bit.  
"Ah," Phil says, but then a loud car horn is beeped outside.  
"Wow, he wasn't kidding. Literally two minutes." I say.  
"Ok, be careful honey," Phil says, as I go towards the door.  
"I will," I say, giving him a smile as I pocket my phone and leave.

Oh.  
Toby's standing stunned in the doorway.  
"Oh," I whisper. "It's even worse than before. Has someone been here recently?"  
Toby doesn't say anything. He steps into the room and looks around.  
"It's... worse than the last time you were here?" he asks.  
"Yes."  
"What's that?" he asks, his attention drawn onto something on the floor. Something red on the floor. It's some kind of liquid.  
It's blood. Fresh blood.  
I give a startled noise. Blood. Blood. Why is there blood here?  
"Was Juliet here?" I ask.  
Toby still doesn't say anything.  
"She's gone." He says. Well, at least he said something but what on earth is 'she's gone' supposed to mean?  
"The person who trashed this place?" I ask.  
Instead of answering, Toby covers his face with his hands.  
"Uh... Are you... OK?" I ask, as gentle as I can.  
He looks back at me through his fingers- it looks like he's fighting off tears.  
"Look... What's going on? Why did I have to come? Why are we here?" I ask. My voice is raising, as it does when I'm confused.  
"Where's Juliet?" I stop shouting. I have a horrible feeling. Where is she? And... who's blood is that?  
"You had to come to show me where her room is, and you're the person who saw it last. We're here because I got back home after filming two hours ago, and her surgery was supposed to end 4 hours ago. She wasn't home. I went to the Hospital but she had left, of course. I checked around everywhere- No-one knew where she was. And now her blood is on the floor here. The guy must've finally got her. She's ... gone." He says.  
Oh god, what have I done? He's... crying.  
Toby's crying.

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**;_; Oh noes Toby's crying and the kidnapper's finally gotten Juliet! D:**

**Oh noeeessssssssssss what happens nao? Will Juliet escape once again? How will Toby cope?!1?! AND WHAT ABOUT HER SUBSCRIBERS?!**

**Follow, Favourite, and Review.**

**(THE MORE THE BETTER :3)**


	24. When Nightmares Become Reality

**Here it is, Chapter 24! When we last left off, Charlotte and Toby had just realised Juliet had been kidnapped! Now, let us continue!**

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She comes in screaming and kicking, biting and thrashing, but like the rest of us, it's hopeless.  
Having never seen her before, I stare at the Juliet that the man has finally captured. She has a mane of pale blonde hair that is in crazy, messy curls. A few tangled locks of it are clogged up in the blood that's running down over her face from a cut on her scalp.  
Her eyes are purple; it looks so strange seeing that eye colour and knowing it's naturual.  
She has a fierce expression, and though blood is dripping down over her eyes, a heavy stream of screams and cusses are emitting from her rosy lipped mouth. From what I can see, her tongue is red, bleeding. She must've bitten it.  
Everyone hushes. He's got her, at last. I feel sorry for her; I can see that a few others do too, but some just stare at her blankly.  
Juliet's eyes widen as she looks around; at the interior of the barn, at the blood, at the corpses, which are either arranged on the walls or curled in heaps against bales of hay. And, at us. She looks at us all quickly; then her eyes seem to be glued on the ragdoll that the man used to design what her cuts will look like.  
The grey eyes, as always, stare ahead, feeling nothing, seeing nothing. She's just begun to rot.  
The man, though panting and wheezing and nursing a few cuts himself, is laughing, these horrible grating noises, even as he attempts to pin down the struggling Juliet.  
I shift uneasily.  
"Lu...cin...da..." whispers a crackly voice. I turn to look at her, the one with the forgotten name.  
"Yes?" I ask, equally quiet. My voice sounds off to me.  
"Is that... the... girl?... Ju...li...et?"  
"Yes," I answer. "He's got her now."

This is the day. The day I was born from my mother. I do miss her sometimes. Her essence, I mean. Her reassurance. Her body I have with the other special one. Though sometimes I regret it, she had to be killed too, when she walked in on me slitting my wife's throat. I sigh. It's a good day, like the one when I finally captured the elusive, angelic Juliet. Angelic will only be used to describe her features. She has the fight of a demon and the tongue of a drunken sailor. She talks lots, too. To the other women, sometimes to me, and to herself. She keeps muttering to herself names and things, like, "Toby... Gryphon... Olga... Toby... Felix... Marzia... Toby... Jack... Ayla... Toby... Shane... Michael... Toby... Toby..." I'm not completely sure who this Toby she keeps speaking off is, but I'm thinking it may be the man I saw take her out of the alley. I had watched from the window as they stood there, him cradling her in his arms, and I also watched the car pull up and they both get in. And at the coffee shop, when she had been with him also. I had wanted to see her, confirm that obtaining her was worth it. It was. And the other day, when I had seem them walking along, hand in hand, so close. They had been with another couple, another beautiful woman and her partner. This one had long straight caramel hair, and I was sure she was Italian. A lanky, tall blonde man with a pair of green headphones slung around his neck had been holding her hand, and the four people had looked happy in each other's company. I would love to get the other woman, if possible. She's simply beautiful.  
As it was, just the other day I saw the two men. The blonde one was attempting to cheer up a depressed, trodden down looking brunette, who was the one I'm now positive is named Toby.  
I am snapped out of my reverie suddenly as a car suddenly roars past as I was about to cross the road.  
"Watch it!" I yell angrily at the car, before I set off across the road quickly. The sign above me says Merganser Way. What a strange name. It reminds me off my mother's in an odd way. Back to my mother, the one who birthed me on this day 34 years ago.  
I feel I should treat myself on my birthday. But how...?  
Ah. It's been two weeks since I've acquired the angel. I think I deserve a new canvas to tinker with.  
Another woman to carve into. A small smile curves my mouth. And anyway, I want to see my work so far on Juliet healed, not covered in blood, to make sure I've done it right.  
I hear a scuff of sneakers- not like an adults, more like a child. I don't take children, only full grown adults.  
The child rushes past me, bumping into my arm.  
She doesn't even turn to apologize, just keeps running, her dark hair whipping behind her.  
"Sorry about that," says a man's voice. I turn to tell him something, but as I turn, I do not look at the handsome dark haired man standing there, but rather the woman clutching one of his arms, looking in a concerned way the direction the girl ran in.  
She has long, straight golden hair, and her indigo eyes are filled with mirth. I blink hard and open them again.  
She looks like... like...  
"I wish she wouldn't run off like that," she says. "Before it'd be fine, but with Juliet gone now..." she sighs. "I just don't want to risk it."  
She's a twin. Not just any twin. Her twin.  
Her face shape is similar to my angel's; but she's taller, and her breast area is larger, and she seems more femine. The man tightens his arm around her waist.  
"Don't worry about it," I say, and the man gives me a strange smile before walking ahead, his arm around the woman's waist.  
A twin. I start pretending to walk a different direction from them, but I turn around and follow them, making sure to stay concealed. Beside the footpath is a rough area of trees and shrubs, so it isn't hard.  
Eventually the girl prances back to them, and I don't think she notices me slinking along behind them either.  
I can't hear them from this far away, but I get the general idea of their conversation, due to gestures and such.  
The woman looks up at the man and then he points towards the park, looking at the girl.  
She jumps up in joy and bolts towards the flat expanse of grass that preceeds the playground.  
The couple follow her- it's only now that I notice the gold glint on one of their fingers each- they're married.  
I've been married twice. The first one left me, but I murdered the second one. I have no desire for a third wife.  
I stop short. I can't go any further. The trees stop here.  
Scowling, I settle down to watch from this great distance. It helps nothing, so I look around. Ah-hah! I'll just go around- there's another bushy area on the other side of the park- much, much closer to the small family. I hope I will be able to get the female.

I moan as I slowly surface back into reality.  
"You're awake," says a hissing voice, though it's not full of harmful or evil intentions.  
"Yes," I begin to answer, but my mouth is still full of the blood from when he cut into my lips, and I end up choking and gurgling on it.  
"Here," she hisses again, and something cold is pressed against my mouth.  
It stings like crazy, and I jerk back, but when water splashes down my bloody front, I lunge for the metal cup and rinse out my mouth with the clear water within. Very soon it's not all that clear, as my lips start bleeding again, and my blood seeps into the water.  
Sylvia empties the cup, a look of disdain on her pointed features as what now is watered down blood splashes in a curved formation onto the hay, where it soaks in.  
"I think he's going to lay off you for now," she says, and I tilt my head in confusion.  
"What do you mean?" I ask.  
"He's been cutting into you- and you only- everyday for two weeks now. I think he's starting to get bored with your pattern, and wants to try a new one. So I think he's hunting right now. Which means you'll be clear, for a few days, at the least."  
Though I do feel a tiny bit upset for the girl he will no doubtibly drag back here, I am relieved that I will be able to relax with knives in my skin for a day or two.  
And it has been going on for two weeks now. Two weeks, once every day, he's come in here and tied me down, even though I thrash and kick and scream. The other women don't help. Some of them because they're frightened- some of them just don't seem to realise what's going on. Then he takes any knife he fancied and whatever knife he chose wasn't as cold as the ones in my dream. No, since it was summer, the metal of the blade was boiling hot. It burned so un-imaginably painfully. But at least I don't stare at the dead girl as much now. And my dreams have become my safe haven. Since when your nightmares become reality, anything else is paradise.  
I already miss everyone so badly- physical pain and emotional, and probably mentally, too.  
I've found something that helps lessen my loneliness- talking. I talk to the other girls, myself, and even the man sometimes. Though most of the time it's something he doesn't like.  
"So, going to give little girls some candy in your big white van?" I cheerfully asked one day when he left the barn. And another day, "You know, you're never going to get laid if you keep treating your ladies like this," I had scolded. Doing stuff like this helps me keep my humour- which in turn, keeps me from going insane.  
Though talking to myself probably seems like I'm going insane, it helps too. Sometimes I pretending I'm talking to Olga, Charlotte, or Marzia. Not often Narina. Since I talk about stuff like how I deal with this pain. Other times Jack, Felix, Shane. Maybe Michael or Sean. Most of the time I pretend it's Toby, though. What can I say? I miss him the most out of everybody.  
The women here aren't normal. Of course they aren't. How long have they been here, surrounded by knives and dead bodies and blood? One of them has forgotten her name; another screams at random times, and her screams are so loud... The most sane ones are Lucinda and Sylvia. Even though when I first talked to Lucinda she suddenly said, "the voices are back! This is reassuring. This is good. That's a bad idea, it won't work. You'll help us? Good."  
Sylvia was a bit normal. She's very jumpy. The slightest touch makes her jump about 10 feet high and attack the one who touched her. Her voice is extremely hissy.  
And the pain... How do I describe that hot, sharp knife, piercing my skin everyday, every little inch of my skin? He had started with my mouth- must be because of that grudge he had after I bit his fingers. There's a scar on him too, but a bit more in the shape of my teeth than a knife. I like eyeing it off when I know he's watching.  
I like pissing him off lots, with words or movements.  
But the scars have already made their mark on my pale, often bloodied skin. I can only hope I get out of here soon. Or at least die trying.  
No, no, no. I can't die. I've got to keep strong. For everyone.  
For my friends. For my family. For my subscribers, too. For Jack, Olga, Charlotte, Ayla, Marzia, Narina, Phil, Sean, Shane, Lisa, Michael, and everyone else, and for Toby.  
I need to stay strong.  
As strong as I can be.

* * *

**So? How was that? REMEMBER I'M LIKE A DEMENTOR AND YOUR REVIEWS ARE HAPPINESS! XD FEED ME YOUR REVIEWS! **

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	25. Another Kidnap

**Hey guys!**

**When was the last time I updated?**

**I don't know, but I feel guilty about it.**

**HAVE CHAPTER BICHES ENJOY AND I THINK I BROKE MY ASS**

* * *

"Phil, would you please look after Narina? I don't want her running off without supervision," Charlotte says, running a hand through her gold hair. She's on a wooden bench, with her husband, out of the sun, well shaded by the trees hanging over head, while her daughter runs about the playground. Phil blinks at her, and I'm surprised he hasn't seen me yet. Though, I think, I am well concealed in these thick bushes amongst the trees that border the park. The only people here are the married couple and their daughter. I've been listening and watching for some time now, and I've picked up their names from that.

"Sure," says Phil, standing up, leaning down, and kissing Charlotte before walking off in the direction of their dark haired child, Narina.

Perfect. The only reason Charlotte sent off her husband was because she couldn't see her kid, and that means that they can't see her. Which means that taking her should be simple. Very, very simple. I shuffle forward in my crouch, as quietly as I can, but the faint russling of leaves waving together makes her turn a bit, look curiously behind her. After a second, she looks back over the playground, settling back against the bench.

I wait tensely for a few more seconds, until I am positive that her family is too far away, and now...

I leap out of my hiding place, accompanied by the leaves flying up in the air, disturbed, and cover her mouth as she tries to yell, at the same time holding her hands behind her tightly. Remembering the nasty bite her sister gave, I keep my hand all the more tightly in place. She starts thrashing about, but in one easy move I move over the back of the bench and pin her down, my knee digging into her back. Though I can hear small whimpers, I doubt her family heard anything. Now, to knock her out. I always make my victims unconscious before bringing them, for what if they get hold of some way to contact help? I don't want them giving instructions on how to get to my farm. That would result horribly for me.

I start to loosen the pressure of my knee on Charlotte's back when suddenly I see a whip of long, black hair and a small figure flash past in a blur in the corner of my eye.

Narina shrieks, and her father comes running.

Fuck!

I kick off Charlotte, who gives a cry as I dig further into her back to get more leverage and speed, and start running back through the bush, and I can't slow down, even though the twigs and leaves scrape against me and my clothes are getting dirtied and ripped.

But after a while, when I'm at the other side of the park again, and I hear no pursuit, I look back over to the bench, panting heavily.

I can't see very well from all the way over here, but from what I can, I presume that they have not desire to chase me down, instead they are all crowded on the bench, clutching and comforting Charlotte.

I give out an irritated sigh- she would've been perfect for my collection! I should've planned that out better. I start walking angrily down the street again. What is with these sisters and escaping me?! Oh well. I will have to find another woman. As soon as I think that, I round a corner and a loud, familiar voice rings out across the street, accompanied by the clack of heels and the heavy slap of flat-soled boots.

"_No_, I- it doesn't matter!" I stare across the road at her, unbelievingly. Is it really her?

"It does! What were you DOING?!" A man yells at her in frustration.

"I said, it doesn't matter! Forget about it!" she yells, stretching her arms out in exaggeration. "Will you just drop it?! I just get out, and you do _this _to me?!"

"Do what to you, huh?! What! Fuck you, Mandy-Renee!" he yells, and he turns around and walks away.

"Fuck you too, you asshole!" Mandy-Renee, my first wife, shrieks. She flips her brown hair over her hunched shoulders and stalks off in the opposite direction, towards where I am.

If I can't have my angel's twin, why not my ex-wife?

"He's been gone a while now," Sylvia says, "Wonder what's the hold up?" Luce bobs her head in some kind of agreement and bends down to the hay covered ground and gathers up a few more pieces of fruit in her hands.

Two apples, a bunch of grapes. A pear.

Almost everything else has been taken by the other women, and we've already eaten. For once in my life, I don't crave food unnecessarily. Must be how everything that goes into my mouth ends up tasting like iron, copper. Blood.

He hasn't let us starve- there's a water trough by the wall, filled to the brim with water, metal and plastic cups strewn about it, and every day he comes in here with a basket or two full of food, dumps it on the ground, and walks back out. Today we got fruit.

Lucinda wordlessly, clumsily, drops an apple in Sylvia's upright palm. Without a word of thanks, Sylvia bites into it. Luce turns to me, blinks. Wetting her finger on her tongue, she wipes it over my top lip. She must've seen my confused expression, because she mumbles, "You were bleeding."

As I nod in understandment, she forces the grapes into my hand and walks carefully over to another woman. She doesn't know her name, but we find her in our company often, though she doesn't speak as often as the rest of us. Luce holds out the pear and the apple. The nameless woman eyes them off warily then snatches up the pear and shuffles off, and as her mouth opens wide to bite into the pear, I see the corner of her mouth beginning to bleed.

As I pop a grape into my mouth, Sylvia suddenly says, "You know, sometimes he doesn't lock the doors."

I swallow the grape with minimum difficulty and say, "What?"

"He doesn't lock them sometimes. He just pretends to."

"Then why haven't you left?" I ask.

"Fear, that's the reason none of us leave. We know that if we do escape, and he finds us in the act of fleeing or after, he'll kill us."

"Oh." I push another grape in through my cut lips and Luce says, "Then why don't we plan something?"

Sylvia looks at her sharply; "What do you mean?"

"The doors are left often sometimes. When he goes hunting, he leaves for about 4 or 5 hours. Sometimes longer. We could escape during that time, if the doors are neglected. Easily. We'd just have to plan it out carefully. So he wouldn't expect anything until it was too late," Lucinda explains. This sounds brilliant.

"It'd take a while to plan this out," Sylvia says thoughtfully.

"And we wouldn't all be able to escape," I say.

"Huh?" Luce softly frowns.

"Think about it. If he came home early, we're all dead. Some people may not make it to the high way. They'll die or won't be able to continue. I think only one of us should go,"

"What! Why?" Sylvia demands angrily, even giving a comical stamp off her foot. Her ankle starts weeping blood.

"Then she can call the police, send them here, and we'll all be saved!" I snap back. We all bleed. Often. Excessive or straining movement will do that easily to us now.

Sylvia and Lucinda's eyes light up. Another one of the women is listening attentive, though she's not contributing to the conversation. She has wide blue eyes and tousled black hair. Her skin is almost translucent. I feel like I should say something to her- she looks sad, in pain, frightened, and hopeful all at the same time, but then a thundering noise of a vehicle travelling along the gravel lined, long, long drive way reaches us.

"He's back," whispers the nameless woman, who has once again wandered back to us.

I nod, and go off to slink around some bale of hay.

As I carefully sort myself into a comfortable, painless position on the top of a big bale of hay. The hay isn't the most comfortable of things, especially when you have easily provoked cuts that don't close because they're re-traced so often, but it's as good as I can do right now.

As soon as I'm comfortable, I hear the noise of some poor, poor woman thrashing about and the crunch of the man's shoes on gravel.

Then, the door is shoved open, and in enters the man, and the woman he toes behind him is oddly familiar, and an odd rush of pity, sympathy, and... loathing fills my veins.

She looks so familiar... Where... Where have I seen her before?

And I know I've met her when her dark blue gaze locks down on me, and a shock of recognition, anger, resentment, and pity wash through her eyes. Then her eyes widen some more as she takes in all of the scars, the rags that we tie around us as clothes, and the matted blood everywhere.

She screams, and that wordless shriek jolts something in me.

"Mandy-Renee Scott," I say, wonderingly.

Mandy-Renee continues to scream and she thrashes all the more, her upper arms held tight by the man, her eyes widen at everything she sees.

Last time I saw or heard of that crazy nurse, she was being towed away by the police to either Prison or an Asylum after attempting to set fire to an area of the hospital after kissing my boyfriend...

My boyfriend. Is Toby still my boyfriend?

Or has he already given up on me?

No... Yes?

As I internally struggle, my eyes watch the man still Mandy-Renee, with something like a back hug, though her legs are still kicking, and I can see her heels, which are as tall as ever, digging into his shins. It's like he doesn't even know she's kicking him.

He starts telling her things, and my ears listen too.

"You see, my last wife, she... she started this," he says, and Mandy-Renee stares at him, horrified. "I... she wasn't... and I killed her, and my mother. You remember her, Mandy-Renee? She walked in on me killing my last wife, so... she had to go too. It was then that I realised I liked this. So then I started collecting them. First, it was... ugly. But I've gotten better, dear. So much better."

This is horrible. I'd rather go back to my internal debate over whether Toby has forgotten and abandoned me by now.

So I do.

But not before I hear, "You will be carved as well, dear. Don't you worry about that. Your beauty will now last forever."

"You're going to kill me," Mandy-Renee whispers, her voice cracking in fear.

"No, no. I always loved you more, Mandy-Renee. You were a much better wife than Rebecca."

And then I sink into a dim, numb world where I hear only my own thoughts and nothing rouses me for a long time.

I stare at Juliet- she's sleeping. She looks peaceful. Happy.

I don't touch her curled up, scarred body, which is resting on some scratchy looking hay, but instead kneel down by the horrified Mandy-Renee, who's still sitting, frozen, where the cutting happens.

She's got blood all over her, and she jerks right back, her spine slamming into the wood wall, when I approach her.

"Don't touch me," she spits out at me, her upper lip curling upwards into a snarl. My imploring hand, which was raised and had a clean rag clutched in it, didn't listen, though the rest of my body leans away from her. I very, very gently, dab the rag at her face.

A startled hiss breaks out from inbetween her clenched teeth.

She starts saying awful, horrible things to me.

Sylvia walks past.

Mandy-Renee's face is mostly clean, so I can see the expression of pain and fear and anger all mixed up on her face easily as Sylvia seizes her by the throat.

"Don't," Sylvia says, "_Ever _call Lucinda that ever again, you demonic whore." She gives Mandy-Renee's neck one more squeeze, then lets go, and Mandy-Renee collapses on the ground, exhausted and unconsious.

I again begin cleaning her, ridding the blood off of her. I did this with Juliet, too, but she didn't react so harshly. Now that Mandy-Renee's unconsious, it's a lot easier, and Sylvia again stalks off, flexing her fingers, as I preen the 'demonic whore'.

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**C: I love you guys. I also love reviews. FOLLOW, REVIEW AND FAVOURITE AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF OKAYY.**

**Also I seriously think I've broken my ass. I had a bruised tail bone and today I was with some friends and they were very carefully crossing this slippery log and I was like, "Bitch please," and pretty much just repeatedly walked all on it, and I said, "You guys are way over-reacting"... And then I fucking fell, landed on my ass, and now my tail bone hasn't stopped hurting, and I hurt it like 4 hours ago.**

**FUCK.**


	26. Different Way of Living

**Hi guys- new chapter! So READ, REEAAADDDDD!**

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I haven't been up here before, which is weird, because I've been here for... how long? I don't know, but I've never been up to the top floor weird thing of the barn.  
Which is quite strange, really.  
There's a few ladders, and Sylvia helps me prop one up. It hits the upper floor with a dull noise. Then she walks off to antagonize Mandy-Renee, who is, I've found out, as horrible as ever.  
One would think that being stuck with a bunch of women who have been getting cut into, then getting cut into yourself, would make you a bit more warmer, a bit more friendly, towards the others, but not with her.  
The first day she was here she spat at Lucinda and Sylvia had her hands around Mandy-Renee's slim neck, and it hasn't gotten any better. Sylvia and her had marked each other out as enemies on day one, and Mandy-Renee's and my hate went a few months back, if I'm correct, so there was no question there.  
Lucinda keeps being nice to her, though I don't see why, as Mandy-Renee's as nasty to her as she is the rest of us. Claws at Lucinda's cuts with her long, sharp nails whenever she approaches, which I know must hurt like a bitch, but she slinks in closer and dabs away Mandy-Renee's blood anyway, though if it were me, I'd shove the rag down her throat and keep it there until she stopped moving.  
I know how horrible that must sound. But that's like mixing someone a cup of tea with a few drops of honey compared to the torture we already endure from that man.  
Speaking of him, he's out, which is why I'm moving around.  
When he's here, I tend to stay still in one good hiding place, or stay well away from him, but when he's out, I go wherever I please within the barn, and today I chose to venture upwards.  
As I start climbing the wooden ladder, which doesn't seem all that stable, I hear one of the women shriek, loudly, and hear the other noises of her hitting the ground and thrashing about, and of one or two other women scurrying either away from her, or towards her to help.  
I keep my eyes glued to the rungs above me- I don't look down, which is a mistake.  
One of the wooden rungs is rotting- as it would be, but I am paying too much attention keeping my attention away from the thrashing woman, and it snaps in two as my foot stomps down on it.  
I make a loud noise of surprise as my bare foot sinks down, much lower than I expect it to, but it hits the other rung instead. It hurts, but I don't fall, so I'm not complaining.  
Breathing out heavily, I shake my head ruefully, and keep climbing- a bit more carefully, though.  
When I get to the top of the ladder, I haul myself onto the platform-floor- honestly, what are these things called? Lofts?  
The others don't go up here all that much- sometimes, but not often, because of the physical labour it requires to move the ladder and climb. The only one who actually seems to not mind using her body is Sylvia. The rest of us can't bear the pain.  
My face full of hay, I crawl to my feet and look around.  
This area of the the barn overlooks everywhere else, and if I peer over the edge, I can see Mandy-Renee hissing at Lucinda from the wall, Lucinda wielding a rag for Mandy-Renee's cuts.  
I briefly wonder what's wrong with her before I realise there's a window to my left.  
A window.  
The only times I've seen outside of the interior of this barn would have to be when the man leaves. I catch the smallest glimpse of a gravel driveway, yellowing grass, a blue sky.  
Of course, I can see the window from down on the ground; but only the sky. I need to see the world again.  
I rush to the window, clamping my fingers down on the windowsill as I stick my head out of the window, relishing the wind on my cheeks, my eyes closed. The wind. When was the last time I felt the wind?  
I open the eyes, looking at everything.  
The sun is burning lower in the sky-it must be almost sunset- but away from the intense orange the sky is as blue as can be. I can almost see the highway from up here, but it's hard to tell, since contacts and glasses are out of the question, but I doubt anyone can see me, or the barn. It's simply too far away. Stretching out across the ground is the narrow, winding gravel road that leads up to the man's house and winds off in my direction, and along that is the yellow grass, some tufts are dull green, and further along there are trees. If I crane my head to the left, I can just see LA.  
As I stare over that way, my heart suddenly pangs for my friends.  
What are they doing over there? Are they crushed? Angry? Sad? Or are they going along like they normally would, before I turned up?  
Do they think I left them, or do they know what happened?  
Surely, Toby and Jack would know, or have guessed, at what happened... They know that I would never, ever just leave them.  
How could I do so willingly, when it hurts to be seperated from them so much now?  
I duck my head back inside, and turn around. There's a bale of hay that looks nice, so I go there and clamber up onto the top, where I perch like a battle-scarred hawk, watching over all of the weaker birds. Well, that's how I like to see it, though Sylvia would probably be the hawk, and me some lesser bird. A maccaw? Maccaws are cool, I think. They're like these giant parrot things. Or maybe I'm an owl? Owls are cool, I think I'd be great at being an owl.  
The hay, prickling against my raw skin, isn't comfortable, but at least it isn't saturated with blood. Unless I was on my period or something. I was on my period last week, god, that was awful.  
Honestly, if it wasn't so uncomfortable, I would probably of been laughing my ass off. There was twice as much blood as there usually was, and it was extremely uncomfortable.  
Wait! That could help me tell how much time I've been here!  
Let's see, my period had just ended before I got kidnapped, and then if I had it last week, it means I've been here for a month.  
A month.  
It feels like years.  
As I look over the barn, I can't help but contemplate about how it is here.  
For clothing, just very basic stuff. Undergarments, pretty much. That's basically it. I don't think it's just because he's probably a major pervert, though that's probably a bit of it.  
Think about it; isn't it easier to be able to cut into these poor womens' skin whenever you want rather than having two remove clothing as well as bind them down and still them?  
For food, once a day the man will come in and toss a random mixture of foods down into the middle of the barn, nuts, fruit, bread, even cereal.  
The day he came in with Kraves was the day when I didn't make any sarcastic comments to him. Chocolate hazelnut Kraves = A day without me being a total bitch to you.  
Of course, usually the food isn't all that good - stale, low quality, whatever. But it's better than starving.  
Still, I wish he would bring in some jelly sometime.  
For our thirst, the water trough takes care of that. He has a number of plastic and metal cups lined up along the thin edge of the trough, no glass, because broken glass is a good weapon, and also, many of these women would gladly attempt suicide to get out of this hell.  
I wouldn't; I couldn't bear to leave everyone.  
Also I'm a wuss; no way I would do that.  
Entertainment is scarce.  
We talk, those of us who can; he's cut off one woman's tongue.  
We talk about a lot of things.  
Things we like, things we miss, our life before we were kidnapped.  
But more often, we're talking of an escape plan.  
It hurts being here. It's a sharp, stinging physical pain, and a blunt, thudding emotional pain, and your sanity slows sinks away.  
It's horrible, that even before I got here, I was already dreaming of it. Even the girl's body is on the wall, and she's started to smell absoloutely horrid, the kind of smell that makes you gag. The bodies don't really rot all that much- he comes in and covers them with some kind of glaze that preserves them for longer.  
It's disgusting, sticky, and yellow tinged, and it smells about as good as the retch of corpses.  
And then there's the sharp tang of blood hanging around, and the taste of blood, that coppery iron taste that lingers in my mouth and on my lips for hours after he's finished...  
I blink hard, and peer over the edge of the platform, laying on my belly. I grit my teeth as I shuffle forward and the hay sticks in my shallow, thin cuts, and watch the top of Sylvia and Lucinda's heads. I think they are talking about the escape plan again.  
We have a few very loosely made ones; either we all run for it when he's gone, or he comes in and we overwhelm him and run for it, or a few of us escape when he's gone, or just one of us runs for it.  
Of course, the ones that don't involve every single on of us is counting on the escapees on getting help quickly, but most of the people here have been gone awhile, and strangers would be terrified of them, with their scarce clothing and their deranged look and their cuts, and the people they once knew might not recognise them, or be too busy fretting over their miraculous returned loved one, who may be too busy soaking up the comfort and safety, to give a second thought to the rest of us.  
It's all very tricky, because if we're caught, we're dead.

But if we can get out of here, then it's worth the risk, isn't it?

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**So that's the chapter, guys! Also- now there are 30 FOLLOWERS OF 'Don't Leave Me Here'! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**

**So, like usual; Follow, Favourite, and Review! REVIEWS PLEASE I LIKE REVIEWS I WANT TO READ REVIEWS AND I AM SO LONELY PLEEAASSSEEE.**


	27. Toby (beware: short chapter)

**Okay guys, sorry it took so long, but here it is. Very short chapter, mind, but sorry. *grimaces***

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Finally. Alone.  
I had finally gotten Sean to leave me alone, and there was no Jack or anyone else to bother about me, for once. They were always there, never giving me time to myself. Time alone that I desperately needed.  
Now I have it.  
I forgot what being alone felt like.  
Usually when none of the guys were here, there was Juliet, bounding around the house, or stuffing her face full of food, or cursing and shrieking at the computer. Filling the very air with bright, happy thoughts and feelings. And swears  
But Juliet isn't here, and that's the reason I need to be alone.  
I hear a low, sobbing noise, and it takes a few seconds to realize it's coming from me.  
I grit my teeth. I'm supposed to be a man, aren't I?  
But men aren't emotionless, un-feeling, cold robots.  
I shake my head and make my way to the computer, slide into the seat and sit motionless for a few seconds before grabbing the mouse and swirling it around the desk: the screen lights up.  
I haven't been as cheerful or funny as before, and it hasn't got unnoticed. Neither has Juliet's absence.  
I check my YouTube comments; the usual.  
Toby, you look so sad :C  
I hope life gets better soon  
It's so sad- he's trying so hard, but...  
Stay strong, Toby!  
She'll be back soon, promise!  
Everyone's so nice- but it doesn't help me at all.  
I click onto Juliet's videos and stare at the comments on her videos. Some of them are clueless; the ones not subscribed to me, or have not been informed by the ones who are.  
Most of them know what happened; I had made a video a week after she went missing, describing what had happening and begging for help for finding her and her kidnapper. What I'd do to him if I caught him...  
We're still looking for you, Juliet! We'll find you!  
omg wtf you havent uploaded in like 2 fuken months wtf juliet  
^ That's because she got kidnapped, and I don't think kidnappers give you a computer, which includes internet access. Something tells me he wouldn't want her logging onto any social networks. Haven't you watched Toby's video? The rest of us are out here, making more people know about what's happening, helping and getting more help, and you're getting mad at a girl who can't (can't, not won't) even MAKE any new videos!  
C'MON GUYS WE NEEDA FIND OUR NIGGA FOR THE SAKE OF NEW VIDEO'S AND TOBY MOTHA FUCKING TURNER!  
Strangely enough, reading the comments on Juliet's videos makes me feel so much better. There are more people out there, looking for her too. She'll be found soon. I breathe out slowly.  
I get up and it's like the silence of the house hits me.  
It's so quiet.  
Now that I finally am by myself, I suddenly want company. Not a whole bunch of people, just one.  
I sink down to the floor like a heavy rock tossed into a lake. Aren't I supposed to be strong? For her? I think, but no matter what thoughts race through my head, none of them stop me crying. It's useless, it's not helping her at all, but I need to get this out. I cover my face with my hands and they come away wet with tears.  
I can't believe this happened. It's my fault. It's all my fault.  
I should've gone with her to her surgery, instead of just dropped her of. Should've made some excuse to Dane, or just not shown up there and stayed with her.  
Or I should've picked her up, at least. Quick ducked out, picked her up, dropped her back off, and stayed or went back.  
I should've done something.  
It's all my fault. All. My. Fault.  
I... I should of...  
Tears run hot over my face when the phone rings.  
Gasping in air, trying to calm myself down, I clamber to my feet and make my way over to the phone. Wiping the tears off of my face, I hold it up to my ear.  
"Hello?" I ask. My voice sounds wavery and hoarse.  
"Um, hi, Toby."  
"Oh. Hi, Charlotte." What does she want now?  
"Um, I called to see how you are doing... Are you... Are you OK?"  
_OK? _I wanted to ask. _What makes you think I'm ever going to feel 'OK' again?_  
Truth be told, I was probably handling this worse than Charlotte was. Then again, Charlotte had someone to comfort her who understood.  
But I take a deep breath and say, "Yes, Charlotte, I'm OK." and only the smallest amount of sarcasm crept in.  
"Oh, um, good. Well. Bye then." She hung up.  
I slowly put the phone down, my jaw locked in place.  
What is the point of anything, now?

What's the point of anything if everyone presumes the one you love to be dead?

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**Hey guys! Sorry if that was kinda short, but I just wanted to get through how Toby's been doing while Juliet's been trapped.**

**So um, sorry if that took way too long, but I had the worst Author's Block EVER, and I don't think I did such a smash bang job, but I felt I'd left you guys hanging for too long.**

**Sorry.**

**Follow, Favourite, and Review! REMEMBER REVIEWS HELP ME LIVE. **


	28. The Worst Kind of Pain

**Hi guys! So, this is a pretty good chapter in my opinion. ;P So read! READ MY MINIONS READ!**

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He had a maniac glint in his black eyes as he wrapped the rope tightly around my wrists, so tight that I barely had circulation to my clawed fingers. He bound my feet then, tying the rope around my ankles, my knees, and around my elbows, going across the bottom of the ribcage, where it gave angry red rashes if I moved to much when I was tied.

This is how he got us to stay still while he tortured us.

I gave one ear-piercing shriek, struggling against his firm grip and his tight ropes, even though both actions were pointless. No-one could help me.

Sometimes he knocked me out- smashed my head down onto the ground until I felt and saw nothing, then I saw red-tinged things, then I felt an awful headache, and then a concussion.

Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days.

He held a soaking rag in one hand, saturated with water. After I was tied up to his satisfaction, he pressed the rag against my mouth, harder until my lips were pushed out of the way and only my teeth bared the rag entrance.

Still keeping his fingers out of my mouth, he somehow managed to open my mouth and stuff the rag into it, then dragging the tapered, thinner ends of it around my head and tying it there.

Luce watches with wide eyes, looking helpless. Her skin is near translucent, the scars in her skin standing out in bright red lines across it.

That's what's going to happen to me, that's what's happening to me...

If I move around in these scratchy, tight ropes, so much as tense a muscle, it will hurt. It rasps against your skin, and it feels more like a barb wire fence rather than rope.

I close my eyes tightly as straightens up and leans over me, selecting the knife he will use. He always uses the same one. Very thin, good at making small intricate lines and curves and patterns. Very, very sharp.

I feel him settle over my legs, and he presses one of his thumbs on the corner of my lips and pulls outwards, and a few short seconds later, I feel the sharp prick of the knife against my lip.

I choke down my whimper as he slowly cuts across my lips, the point of the knife sharp as it parts through, right in the gap between my skin and lip. With one tiny little jerk, the blade flicks out of my lip and I make a choked whining noise. I keep my eyes shut- I don't want to see. I clamp my teeth down on the sodden rag just as he's about to outline my lower lip. Water fills my mouth, and I let the calming clean coldness of it ready myself for the next assault. A tiny prick, then a burning sting. First around my mouth, then he carves tiny swirls, curls and dots into it. Then carefully on my exact jawline, over my cheeks, my nose, over my eyebrows, even on my ears. And under my eyes, too. I always close my eyes because I'm afraid he'll stab into it and pull my eye out with the knife.

He finishes under one eye with a flourish and settles onto the next, when I accidentally swallow some of the water and jerk as I choke slightly and try to gasp for air through the water. My eyes fly open, and the blade finds one.

It starts off as a gurgle, but the water pours out of my mouth. I don't know how loud my scream was, all I know is that when it ended, my ears still rung with it.

"SHUT UP!" screamed the man, one of his hands gripping my arm so tightly it lost circulation. He shook me violently, and I felt my head smack against the wall, though that was the least of my concerns.

My fingers couldn't reach, I couldn't raise my arms at all, I couldn't assess the damage by feeling, and certainly not by sight. But gosh, I could feel it. In my right eye, where the knife had slipped and buried itself. It burned and stung and I screamed more.

"SHUT UP!" screamed the man again, and I screamed as he shook me more, more blood washing down over the right side of my face.

Finally, one of my hands twists free, the other following suit, though leaving ugly rashes over my wrists.

My fingers feel the blood first, and I scream as I instinctively press down under my eye and the planned cut accompanied by the slip of the knife gave me one of the worst, most sharp pains I'd ever felt. My tears mingling with the blood, I fumble to stand. I shriek in pain as I stumble backwards, unable to see through the pain and the blood, and unable to move through the rest of the ropes.

"**SHUT, UP!**" screams the man again, and he seizes me roughly by each forearm and shakes me again, my head bouncing against the wall again.

Shrieks with loud, inhuman sobs rise from me, though I don't how. They can't belong to me, those wild noises can't be mine...

He shoves me down to the ground, re-ties me, and through my one able eye I can see every set of eyes are fixed on us. He's still yelling.

That was the only slip he'd ever made on any of us, and the only time he'd ever lost his temper so violently and completely.

The tears burn and sting my eye, but he doesn't stop carving into the rest of me, though my body convulses and I scream the entire time.

When he finishes, he un-ties me, and I grovel around on the ground, still crying and screaming.

My voice is hoarse, dry, cracked, and I didn't want any more of this.

And for a moment, I'm relieved when I hear what he says. But then, I actually realize what he says. And I'm horrified, and so, so scared.

"You're worthless now. No use in keeping you alive for much longer."

I need to get out. But I can't see, I can't move properly, and pain, blinding pain everywhere, even as Sylvia up-ends another cup over my jerking body, which stings the freshly opened cuts but cools my sweating, hurting body..

"She needs to get out," she says, so low I almost don't hear the hiss in her voice. I agree, I agree with you there.

"What? She can't," Lucinda says, sounding puzzled to me through the buzz and the shriek still ringing in my head.

"She has too. I know we agreed that it'd be later than this, but he's going to kill her. You hear what he said. 'No use in keeping you alive for much longer'."

I hear Lucinda make a noise.

"She HAS to!" says Sylvia more aggressively.

"Who, has to what?" snaps Mandy-Renee. She appears out of no-where, leaning against the bale of hay we were hiding behind.

"Well, YOU have to mind your own business, whore," snaps back Sylvia.

Mandy-Renee hisses in a breath.

"I am NOT a whore!" she shrieks, her fingers trying to find Sylvia's neck.

"Really? From what Juliet told me here, you sure are!" Hisses Sylvia back.

"She's a liar! Her man was begging for it- begging!" insisted Mandy-Renee, and I felt a ball of hatred burn in my chest.

"He was not," I croak out. "Why would he want you? You, in your ridiculously tall high-heels, with your boobs bulging out of your barely button-ed up top, in that too short skirt, and when you suddenly attack him in the hallway with your red lipstick smeared all over your mouth, and then when he makes it obvious he doesn't want you, you try to burn down the entire hospital, faculty and patients! I don't know how a slut like you even got allowed to be a doctor! Did you just sleep with everyone you saw for a good score?" My throat burns as fiercely as the ball of hate and the sting of the cuts and the sharp point of the knife in my eye.

"Well, better than you, anyway!"

"How the hell would YOU be better than HER?" yells Sylvia, but Mandy-Renee ignores her. Lucinda mumbles an agreement with the enraged Sylvia, who's face is pale in anger.

"You came in hideous! A broken ankle, bruises everywhere, who would want YOU? Apart from your obviously fake purple eyes, and your stupid tacky bleached blonde and iron curled hair, you were as ugly as could be!"

"Oh, am I as fake as you? Are my naturally brown roots showing? No? Because I didn't bleach my hair. Are your naturally black roots showing? Big time. And wouldn't my hair have uncurled by now? And if my eyes were contact lenses, then why would I still be wearing them? After almost three months here?" I retorted. Mandy-Renee clutched at her dyed brown hair- and scowled.

"Well, at least I know I'll be missed," she snarls back, and I rise back right away.

"By who? Your bed buddies? Unlike you, I have actual friends. I know they're looking for me."

"Friends- pfft. They way the gave you that pitying look whenever you crossed their eyes? Hardly. They were just sorry for the stupid lonely beat up girl."

My blood runs cold. Is that really how I seem?

Is that the only reason I have any... friends?

I didn't before. I thought that was because I didn't ever leave the house.

I curl up in a ball and turn my head away from her, my right eye clamped shut and my left one wide open, tears forming on the edge.

Mandy-Renee laughs. "See? Come to realize that's the only reason you have ANY 'friends'?" She starts laughing, and I start to cry.

"MANDY-RENEE," screams the man. Then she's being pulled away, her laughter quickly evaporating. and she's the one being bound.

I know before this all happened, back in the hospital where everything was so much better, I said that I thought that Mandy-Renee kinda deserved to get raped.

I can't believe it, but I take that back.

She's even worse than before, but think about it this way:

You get kidnapped by your ex-husband, and find out that since you've divorced him, he's become an insane kidnapper and murderer, and you're stuck in a bloodied barn with two dozen other women he's also kidnapped.

And then, he bounds you down roughly, and rapes you before he starts cutting into you.

He doesn't rape any of us; only her.

I feel bad, absolutely awful for her, but I can't help but feel the deepest loathing and hate for her. I mean, understandable, isn't it? I hate her.

Which is why, for reasons unknown to me, after he's raped her and has started cutting into her, while her wordless whimpers run in the background, I say loudly, "Funny how she likes my man better than the one that she married once," and I immediately regret the words.

He shrieks in blind rage, raises the knife, and plunges it into Mandy-Renee's chest.

Blood spurts out, and through the one eye I can still see through, I see her mouth open, screaming, as well as me and a few others, the noise bouncing off the walls, as he lifts the knife and stabs her, over and over, more blood splashing his face as he keeps diving it into her chest, blood pouring all around her.

A few more violent dives of the knife, and Mandy-Renee's screams cut short. The man's black eyes seem to glow as he looks down at her still body, blood still spitting from her chest.

A small smile slithers onto his thin lips.

He has just killed his ex-wife, murdered her without a second thought, and now he smiles.

He blinded me, and now he's going to kill me.

He's kidnapped all of these women and tortured them, some for over a year.

He's killed the others, strung them around the place like decorations.

My body suddenly seizes up, my body going frigid, the tears feeling like they've frozen on my bleeding cheeks, and a jumble of a thought rises in my mind;

I have to get out of here. Lucinda and Sylvia are right. I need to leave. As soon as possible. I need to leave, get the cops, and save everyone here from here. I need to leave, I have to get out, I need to escape...

But how?

I turn my head up towards Sylvia. She's the one with the plan.

She's still staring at Mandy-Renee's body.

Then she looks at me.

She squats down, tugs on Lucinda's sleeve so she does the same. Luce kneels, and Sylvia starts hissing out plans, strategies, that all revolve me escaping here, soon, fast, and all I can do is sit and nod, feeling only pain and more pain.

* * *

**Um, I'm actually kinda bummed out guys. I got my first boyfriend (who's name, funnily enough, is Toby) but after one of my friends decided to lightly tread on the bitch path, I'm probably going to break up with him. And we've only been dating, what, 2, 3 weeks? Ugh. My friends are completely immature and don't know how to mind their business, and neither does anyone else. I mean, the friends and people that I have to interact with every day at school. YOU GUYS, now, you guys are different. In the best way. c:**

**So now, due to bitches and bitching I have decided this: If anyway starts gossiping or complaining or bitching about someone else who isn't famous, I am going to completely ignore them. No matter who it is. Going to pull out a book and start reading, maybe just walk away, because I'm done with stupid shit like that. DONE with it.**

**I officially no longer give a single fuck. I didn't before, but I am putting my foot down now.**

**SO JUST TELLING YOU GUYS THAT FOLLOWS AND FAVOURITES AND REVIEWS MAKE ME SQUEAL WITH JOY AND DELIGHT AND HAPPINESS. (It'd be nice to feel a bit more cheerful after having one friend backstab me like the guy stabbed Mandy-Renee).**


	29. UpdateExplanationHelp!

**Hello, guys! Sorry, but this is just a kind of update/explanation thingo...**

**So it may take a while to get the next chapter out due to Author's Block (grr!), and I am really sorry about that. **

**But don't worry, because of that, the chapter will (hopefully) be a bit longer than usual (maybe).**

**So, while I have this awful disease Author's Block, I was wondering: Critism, feedback?**

**I would like VERY detailed feedback. On how you first felt about Don't Leave Me Here, how it's changed, how you feel about the characters, the writing style, ect., where you think this is going to lead and what's going to happen to Toby and Juliet, the rest of the kidnapped women, everyone else.**

**Because, believe it or not, stuff like that actually helps me! It motivates me to do better if it was bad, or to make you feel good when you read it if you liked the chapter. I remember once I was stumped: WHAT DO I DO?! And then I got a review.**

**It motivated me, and it helped... LOTS.**

**So feel free to have your responses like two thousand words long.**

**Seriously.**

**Feel absoloutely free to have your feedback longer than some of my actual chapters.**

**Any suggestions to further this story, that'd be awesome too. Like ideas for Don't Leave Me Here. Like what could happen in the story. You know.**

**I know what's going to happen; I have it all planned out, I know what's going on. But I don't know how to put it down, in which order, or how to put into place these events. **

**So, c'mon guys, motivate me!**


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